Rule 3b
by bookdragon01
Summary: A shuttle crash and war games and a wedding – oh my. Life in Starfleet Security is always interesting, especially for Cmdr. Sam Giotto, the Security Chief of the Enterprise.
1. Chapter 1

**Rule 3b**

**Summary:** A shuttle crash and war games and a wedding – oh my. Life in Starfleet Security is always interesting, especially for Cmdr. Sam Giotto, the Security Chief of the Enterprise.

I always thought the Security Chief ought to have been given a bit more of a roll in TOS. Giotto is one of the few TOS characters with nearly all gray hair and since I have some myself, I got to thinking about what it would be like for him in the AOS serving on a ship full of rookies, including a very young version of Kirk. I have a soft spot for redshirts and Giotto has taken on a life of his own in my imagination. The first story was _Rule Three_ and there is now a pretty extensive series of shorts about his experiences, but I intend to weave enough background in that you shouldn't have to read any of the others first. Technically this story comes after _Sneakin' Around_, and for those who have read it, I promise that this time around Sam and Denise are ones getting married.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Star Trek (except in my dreams), but the plot and OCs are mine.

* * *

Phil Groesner looked from Giotto to Spock and then folded his cards with a resigned sigh. Giotto resisted an urge to sigh as well. On the past few away missions his third in command had proven himself to be an intelligent and resourceful field commander, but he couldn't bluff at poker to save his life.

Jenkins shook his head in mock sadness. "Phil, you're pathetic."

"Shut up, Dan. At least I know when to fold."

"Boys play nice," Giotto gave them a warning smile. If they were going to keeping calling him 'Pop' behind his back, it was only fair if he occasionally treated them like they were kids (although Sam didn't like to think about the fact, that wasn't too far off - the next oldest person at the table tonight had been born the same year he'd enlisted).

Dan smirked at Phil. "I see the bet and raise two."

Giotto's Second was a skilled tactician who had originally won the position because of the solid good sense he'd displayed in actual combat, so Dan's tendency to push his luck when it came to gambling was a personality quirk that Sam was still trying to figure out.

"The bet's to you, Mr. Spock."

The person with the best natural poker face on the ship calmly regarded the other players. It was a measure of how far Spock had come in using these poker sessions to improve his understanding of humans that he focused on Phil to assess the level of Dan's bluff. Although they bickered like brothers, Groesner and Jenkins were such a natural team that they sometimes gave the impression that they could read each others thoughts.

Slanted eyebrows rose slightly. "I hope, Mr. Jenkins, that when it comes to ship security your command of risk assessment is not so deficient."

There was a brief pause before the most of the players decided to laugh. Spock had recently begun using his standing invitation to poker night to work out the human practice of ribbing one's comrades, usually with mixed results.

Jenkins chuckled. "And I hope, Mr. Spock that I'm within earshot if you ever decide to use that command of snark on the Captain."

Spock had in fact attempted a mild joke at Giotto's expense the last time the Captain had dragged most of his command team out on a leave together and the surprise on Kirk's face had been priceless. Sam grinned at the Vulcan. "It's the last hand of the evening, Mr. Spock. If you want to make things interesting, we could put that on the table against whatever you choose to name for the rest of us to do."

Given their XO's sense of propriety, there wasn't much actual risk in losing that bet. However the suggestion caused a rare break in Vulcan composure, which quickly gave way to calculation as to what the offer meant with regard to contents of his opponent's hand. The other measure of Spock's progress was that he spared only a glance at Sam (who after many years as Security Chief had an excellent poker face) before studying the two women at the table. Giotto had personally recruited his aide, Jessy Hanlan, and sponsored her admission to the Academy. Although Sam didn't like to admit it, she was probably the closest thing he had to a daughter. However the ship's diplomatic officer, Denise Marshall, was the person on the Enterprise who knew him best. At the moment both were too amused to give anything away.

Spock's head tilted in an attitude of contemplation. "I note Mr. Giotto that you rarely lose after an offer to 'make things interesting'. Therefore I believe the wisest course of action would be to fold."

"I'd be a fool to ignore that kind of logic," Jessy chuckled, laying her cards down. "Especially with this hand."

Denise saw the last bet and lifted an extra chip, a mischievous smile spreading her lips. "Do you still want to make things interesting Sam?"

Giotto weighed mutual affection against the fact that ever since they'd met a few years ago she had made it a sort of personal mission to force him to loosen up a little. "What did you have in mind?"

"You have a nice voice Sam." She looked innocently upward. "It's a shame more people don't get to hear it, especially since the crew enjoys having music in lounge." Her smile widened. "I get to choose the song of course. And if Dan doesn't fold, it can be a duet."

Giotto exchanged a glance with his Second. They were both acquainted with Denise's sense of humor, but that didn't necessarily mean either was going to fold.

"Pretty high stakes," Sam pursed his lips a moment as though considering his cards. "But you used to be in chorus, so I think we should name different stakes for you."

"Like?"

He looked up thoughtfully. "The Captain's been a little down since that incident on Gideon. I imagine it would really raise his spirits if a cheerleader were to do a little rah-rah routine for him." He looked at Dan with an evil smile. Denise might still call, but no way was he chancing a duet. "If Dan doesn't fold, we'll find a miniskirt and poms-poms for him too."

Jessy hooted laughter as Phil pounded the table and then looked upward in mock reverence. "Oh dear God, _please_ let the Chief have four aces."

"If I _don't _fold," Jenkins widened his eyes at Giotto, "I'm going to make you and Marshall disco to _Staying Alive_ in the rec hall - tasteless period costumes and all."

Jessy laughed. "It's a shame you're bluffing, because there are people who would _pay_ to see that."

"Oh Dan, you're too smart not to fold." Denise waved a dismissive hand and shifted her eyes back to Sam. "I'm thinking show tune - maybe something with a little dance routine - _and_ I get to send a recording to Adm. Pike."

That last bit was just far enough over the top that he was sure now that she was bluffing. Sam grinned at her. "I think the cheerleading should involve one of those call and response routines where you get people to spell out the Captain's name and then bounce up and down waving pom-poms."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Waving poms-poms."

"Oh yes. Big, sparkly, _pink_ ones."

Denise pressed her lips together, but her eyes said that he hadn't heard the last of this. "Too rich for my blood - fold."

Giotto grinned at Jenkins and held up a chip. "Pom-poms Dan?"

"God no," Dan gave an exaggerated shudder. "Fold."

As Giotto gathered the pot, Spock looked around with a puzzled expression. "I fail to understand why the use of pom-poms is so much more abhorrent than any other illogical human practice."

"It isn't to everyone," Jessy explained. "Just men and those of us women who have some unpleasant associations when it comes to cheerleading."

The Vulcan's brows remained drawn in a vee.

Jessy put her remaining chips back in the container before moving toward the door. "Phil and I need to check the duty stations before the next shift. If you walk with us on your way back to the bridge, we'll try to explain."

"I would appreciate your insight," Spock rose to join them. He inclined his head slightly before leaving. "Thank you for another interesting evening. It has given me a great deal of new data to consider."

"Good luck tomorrow," Jessy added. "And try to keep Len from freaking out."

Sam snorted. "I don't suppose you could slip a sedative into that hip flask of his?" In his opinion, forcing the Doctor to go anywhere in a shuttle really should involve drugs, especially for everyone else who had to be in the shuttle with him.

"I'll see what I can do - 'Pop'." Jessy slipped out the door before Giotto could reply with more than lifted brows.

After they left, Jenkins glanced at Denise quietly putting the cards in order and then turned to Giotto. "I guess you've got enough help cleaning up, so I should probably get some sleep."

"Yes," Sam agreed seeing him to the door. "You're in charge of the department while I'm off with the Captain and you know how that usually goes."

"Yeah, there's bound to be some excitement." Dan gave him a half-smile. "Don't worry; I'll keep the ship in one piece until you get back."

"I know you will." The response carried confidence that his Second could handle for the job. If Dan's game had been a little off tonight it was because the orders had just come through naming him Chief for the _Farragut_ when the yard finished its rebuild in a couple months. It was a rapid promotion, but necessary given the times. Ships could be rebuilt faster than office corps and a lot of junior people were being pushed into senior positions. A year and a half of mentoring would have to be enough. At this point the only other help Giotto could give him was a little arm twisting to get Phil placed as Dan's Second.

* * *

.

After the door closed, Denise waited for Sam's arms to fold around her before giving him a sly smile. "You know, I think Dan is on to us."

There was nothing technically illicit about their affair but a Security Chief couldn't allow his private life to be anything but private. Of course, intensely private by nature, Sam tended to take that a lot farther than most, but in that they were well-matched. Denise had broken her own rule about avoiding shipboard romances for him.

"Dan's smarter than he looks," Sam laughed. "He knew before I did that Jessy was going to fall for the Doctor. And I suspect _he_ was on to us before _we_ were."

"You mean before _you_ were," she teased, running her hands across his chest. Sam worked out (almost literally) like a gladiator to keep in fighting trim and among this unusually young crew 'Rule 3' had become shorthand for the mistake of presuming that youth was any real advantage in a fight. How someone with Sam's reputation for knowing everything could have imagined that she had her eye on someone closer to her own age when she had all but drooled watching him teach that lesson was still beyond her.

"I mean," Sam grinned, "That he was at least on to me before _you_ were."

It hadn't been that long since she had despaired of being more than friends. Having once watched from the wings as Sam had carefully but politely ignored a junior officer's crush, she had begun to fear that he was trying to spare her feelings. But then Spock - bless his naive Vulcan heart - had innocently remarked during his first practical lessons in poker that Sam observed her with a 'higher frequency than the other players'. When Dan had muttered something about Spock getting a handle on the observation side of things, Sam had blushed - just slightly, but it had been enough to make her think that _maybe_ her feelings weren't entirely unrequited.

"I _suppose_ it's good that he's better at keeping secrets than at bluffing," Denise draped her arms around Sam's shoulders and widened her eyes. "Otherwise the whole ship would know that I'd fallen for the sort of evil, twisted person who would suggest big, sparkly, _pink_ pom-poms."

"I knew I was going to pay for that," he chuckled and gave her a playful grin. "I guess now would be a bad time to ask you to move in?"

She kissed him softly. "I'm willing to move as far as the bedroom, for about an hour."

His lips brushed her ear. "I think I can settle for that."

* * *

.

Sometime later, Sam held her quietly, enjoying the last moments before she would go. While he'd hardly been a monk in the years since his wife had died, he had grown accustomed to the idea of basically being alone. Lately, however, some less cautious portion of his heart had begun questioning that idea.

Denise kissed him as she slipped away. "Be careful tomorrow."

Though she tried to hide it, Sam knew that she resisted becoming more serious in part because she wrestled with the distinct possibility that his job might finally manage to kill him. "It's just a meeting. The only trouble I'm likely to face is pulling Kirk out of the station lounge."

She rolled her eyes. "Then be _especially_ careful."

He kissed her hand and grinned a little. "Yes mom."

The careful, rational part of him knew that they were friends who had become lovers, and given the differences in age and background, that should be enough. As he moved to block the pillow she'd aimed at him, he hoped it would be enough for a long time to come.

* * *

_AN: Gideon is a reference to the TOS episode _Mark of Gideon_. A slightly long first chapter, but there was a lot of background I wanted to work in. The main story starts in the next chapter._

_Please r&r_


	2. Staying Alive

**Staying Alive**

_Because McCoy isn't completely wrong about shuttles_

* * *

Giotto and McCoy ran through the foliage as swiftly as they could while half-carrying the Captain between them. If not for a pair of cracked ribs, Sam would have been tempted to just sling the younger man over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, but as things stood the Doctor was trying to spare him by taking the lion's share of the Kirk's weight.

"Dammit Jim," McCoy gasped. "If we ever get out of here, I'm putting you on a diet."

"I'm not heavy," Kirk responded, wincing with every jarring hop. "You're out of shape, _old man_."

Sam resisted a comment. The doctor was about two decades his junior. And the Captain was a little heavy. "Almost there." He nodded toward the partial clearing where they'd managed to bring the shuttle down.

As soon as they reached it, he helped to boost Kirk inside and then closed the hatch. While the doctor went to work on the piece of barbed projectile still lodged in the Captain's thigh, Giotto pulled the panel covering access to the propulsion couplings. A basic knowledge of shuttle mechanics was required for all 'fleet personnel, but it had been a long time since he had had to use it. In fact, it was a good thing that there was a closet tech geek hiding under the Captain's cocky coolest-guy-in-the-room exterior because Sam seriously doubted that he would have been able to figure out which pieces of local low tech equipment could be used to replace their damaged components - especially since that they'd had to 'grab and go' after failing spectacularly to barter with the planet's highly xenophobic inhabitants.

Sam shot a quick prayer to anyone who might be listening while he secured questionable-grade connectors into place with spare clamps and duct tape. It wasn't pretty, but it only had to hold long enough for them to lift off and they needed to do that soon, before the posse of hacked off natives could track them down and finished what they'd started.

Ignoring his protesting side, Giotto pushed himself off the floor and powered the shuttle enough to check the pre-flight read-outs. The connections he'd made registered as okay, but they'd lost a fuel cell and that was something they weren't going to be able to replace here even if they dared another foray into inhabited areas.

"I don't like the look on your face Sam." The Doctor was eying him nervously. McCoy's opinion of shuttles had been pretty low even before they'd crashed here and he'd spent most of the way down cussing and swearing in between dry heaves that if they died he was going to follow Kirk around eternity saying 'I told you so'. This news wasn't likely to improve matters.

Kirk levered himself up. "Chief, what's wrong?"

"How are feeling, sir?"

"I've felt better," Kirk glanced wryly at his bandaged leg and the inflatable brace McCoy had fixed around his knee, "but I'll be alright."

"Good. Then you should be able to get the shuttle into orbit -"

"Dammit Sam, how bad are you hurt?" The doctor was on his feet and waving a scanner at him before he could finish.

Giotto held a hand up. "Not too bad, Doc, but we've lost a lot of fuel. We're about 90 kilos too heavy to make escape velocity."

"Infernal flying death traps," McCoy muttered. "Well, neither of you should to do any heavy lifting but I'm not that outta shape. Just tell me what equipment to jettison."

"It's not that easy Bones. We use nearly everything getting to orbit so there's not much excess weight," Kirk exchanged a look with Giotto. "Except for the passengers."

"And this is a pre-warp society. Even out of what we could remove, there's not much we can leave on this world without violating the Prime Directive," Giotto added. It was a lousy option, it really was the only one. "Just tape the ribs for me Doc and -"

"Whoa, Chief," Kirk interrupted. "I may be hurt, but that doesn't mean you're in command here. The _Enterprise_ will be looking for us by now. Help get me stashed somewhere safe and I'll stay put until you can come back for me."

"Are you outta your _mind_ Jim?" McCoy exploded. "You've lost blood, you've still got a hunk of metal festering in your leg and you can't even walk. There's no way you can elude a search. So much as suggest that again and I'll declare you unfit on the spot." The doctor crossed his arms. "If anyone's staying it's me. I sure as hell don't wanna ride in any damn jury-rigged shuttle anyway."

"You're going to have to." He wasn't a doctor, but after a lifetime in Security, Giotto had seen a lot of injured men. The ones who looked like the Captain were usually going to require more than basic first aid. "We don't know how long it will take the _Enterprise_ to find you and the Captain needs a doctor."

Kirk glared. "_Again_, Chief, I don't remember stepping down from command."

"You're in command sir, but I'm in Security. I'm required to disregard orders that put you in danger. Now quit being a _hero_," Giotto cocked an eyebrow. The doctor routinely insisted 'hero' was just another word for idiot and he wasn't far off. "I've got no intention of _staying_ down here. I'll take a survival pack and make for those hills the locals were so superstitious about. I can hole up there until you're able to retrieve me. But _none_ of us are getting rescued unless you get this thing into orbit before it's too late."

Considering that he could already hear crude motors in the distance, they were already cutting it close. Giotto grabbed a survival pack. "Doc, help the Captain into a seat at the helm. I'll see you both in a day or two."

He left, closing the hatch behind him before McCoy could finish fishing a hypo out of his pack. It had been a nice try, but his wife had been in medical so Sam had developed a certain awareness of hypos meant to keep him from taking risks. As soon as the shuttle began to lift off, he started to circle toward the hills. With any luck, whatever demons the natives imagined were hiding there wouldn't be any worse than the natives themselves.

* * *

.

"Spock! I never thought I'd say this, but _damn_ am I glad to hear your voice!"

You could almost hear eyebrows lift on the other side of the subspace connection. "It is gratifying to hear yours as well, Doctor. May I speak with the Captain?"

"He's passed out," McCoy sighed wearily. They'd been circling the damn planet for better than a day waiting for someone to respond to their distress signal. "It's a long story Spock, but he'd lost a lot of blood and we had a pretty rough lift getting off the planet and -"

"_Doctor_," Spock interrupted. "May I speak to Mr. Giotto?"

_Sorry hobgoblin, the other_ rational _human isn't available either_. "Sam's still _on_ the damn planet. Now stop wasting time and do whatever you do to figure out where we are and get the _Enterprise_ over here!" For all the good he could do Jim right now, he should've been faster with a hypo and left Sam on the shuttle. At least Sam could pilot the damn thing.

"Calm yourself Doctor. We have your coordinates and will rendezvous in 1.37 hours. Please endeavor to keep the Captain stable until we arrive."

"I wasn't plannin' on lettin' him _die_ Spock," McCoy growled into the comm. "You just work on getting here before something else goes wrong."

"I shall endeavor to do so. Spock out."

_Damn irritating green-blooded computer_. Leonard shut the comm and checked on Jim. Then he tried to remember what he was supposed to be looking for on the shuttle read-outs. The infernal things really were instruments of Satan. Starfleet could court martial him if they liked, but he was never getting into another goddamned shuttle for any reason less than life-or-death.

* * *

.

Giotto watched as his comm, lying on the opposite ledge, rose half a meter in the air and was crushed in a flash of translucent teeth. The creature yowled angrily.

Yeah, crunching a comm in your mouth probably did give a nasty shock. Served it right for destroying his only way to contact the ship. Sam drew a knife in his uninjured hand and crouched waiting in case the thing tried to leap the divide to come after him.

It was little wonder the natives thought these hills were inhabited by demons. The predator was nearly invisible - barely a shimmering outline easily mistaken for heat-distorted air rising from the rocks. If the creature's focus hadn't been drawn to the static from his comm, it might have taken him. Giotto watched the one clearly visible part, a front paw marked by his own blood, pace the ledge before turning away. It seemed to have decided that the rest of him probably tasted as bad as the comm and he wasn't worth the effort.

Sam let out a slow breath and settled back against solid rock as reaction set in. He drew the first aid kit from his pack and ran the scanner over the gashes in his hand and arm. Nothing worse than bacteria. Good. The slash marks were deep, but poison claws would have been really bad. He winced applying the Plas-skin spray. It stung like anything but it would cover and disinfect the wounds.

Without his comm, the original estimate of a day or two until someone retrieved him was probably on the low side of how long he'd have to survive down here but he had no doubt someone would come for him. Kirk was nothing if not tenacious and he'd been pissed off about Giotto making the decision for him. The Captain would find him if only to finally get the last word in, which would probably be nothing compared to whatever Denise would have to say - that is, if she was still speaking to him after this. She had been the one to initiate the relationship, but his staying behind hit every issue she had about taking it any further. Sam sighed inwardly. He was good at his job, but his love life would be considerably less complicated if he'd majored in history.

For now, he had to focus on survival. There was probably more than one predator like that around and he needed to find a defensible place to camp before nightfall. And he also needed to leave some clues for a search party. Giotto scratched a blaze on the cliff wall and a warning: the sign for unseen danger.

* * *

_AN: That there's not much you can strip from a shuttle comes from the TOS episode_ The Galileo Seven _(someday I'll write a fic with Giotto chewing Boma out for his behavior in that one). A bit of a rocky start for romantic fic, but it does center on someone in Security._

_Please read & review_


	3. Rule One

**Rule One**

_Because __avoiding a fight is often the best way to win_

_

* * *

_

"Ahh! Go easy Doc," Groesner complained. "Just patch it up enough so I can go back down."

"You're goin' nowhere until I say," McCoy drawled, examining the wound. "You're just lucky whatever sunk its teeth into you didn't take your arm off."

"Lucky," Phil muttered bitterly. "If I'd been able to see the thing I would've been able to shoot it before it got to Cho."

"She's gonna be alright," McCoy put a hand the young man's shoulder. "You got it off her in time." He didn't care to think too much about the fact that without a medic right on the spot Cho would have bled out. Sam had drilled it into these kids that they should never go anywhere without back-up, but right now he was down there alone.

"What happened?" Trust Jim not to wait for a report like a normal captain. He had to barge into sickbay while Bones was still working.

"They ran into the mountain lion version of the Cheshire cat. Now let me finish with my patient before you start grilling him."

"It's okay Doc," Groesner grimaced a little as McCoy disinfected the bite wounds. "I could use the distraction." He turned to the Captain. "The doctor's description isn't too far off. We were attacked by a big predator that was practically invisible. But the body was warm. Now that we know they're out there, I think we should be able use thermal imaging to see them."

"Any sign of the Chief?"

"We found a crushed piece of comm at the bottom of a gulley, but there was no sign that he'd fallen. We were calling, hoping he'd hear us, when the creature attacked." Phil looked pointedly at the Doctor. "Which is why I'd like to get back as soon as possible."

"There's another search party just waiting for the go-ahead." Kirk put on his best Captain face. "You don't have to lead every team yourself."

McCoy limited his response to a cocked eyebrow. _Pot. Kettle_. If he didn't have Jim on restricted duty, the kid would've been the first one down.

"I understand sir, and they certainly shouldn't wait for me," Groesner's jaw set stubbornly. "But I'm going down with the next team."

"You may not have noticed," McCoy cut in sarcastically. "But I'm not a hologram you can just shut off whenever you're done with me. You're goin' nowhere till _I_ release you."

Jim held a hand up before they could argue and gave them a reassuring smile. "It'll be dark down there soon. We're not going to _need_ a next team."

Bones and Phil exchanged a look. The Captain's optimism was sometimes a bit hard to swallow, especially for natural pessimists.

"Look," Kirk explained, seeing their expressions. "The Chief is going to find somewhere hole up for the night, but before it's too dark he's going to build a _fire_. Thermal scans can pick up a big animal within a few meters, but they can detect a concentrated heat source _much_ farther away. Unless he's covered a lot of ground since losing his comm, we should find him before full dark."

* * *

.

Giotto finished setting up a perimeter of loose stones and thorny foliage. Then he leaned against a sheltering rock, knife in hand, and pulled the insulating blanket around him. He'd learned that the local version of wolves didn't share most animals' fear of fire. They didn't much like having a burning branch shoved in their faces, but smoke seemed to draw them. In this terrain a brush fire couldn't spread far, so possibly they'd learned that they could wait on the edge of a burn and prey would run to them.

Whatever the reason, after spending most of last evening fending the things off, Sam wasn't chancing another fire. It would make for an uncomfortable night, but he had certainly slept in the cold before and no matter how tired he was, he couldn't afford to more than doze. Doing without fire would only become an issue if the ration bars ran out and he had to hunt. The prospect of raw meat wasn't very appealing, but there wasn't enough edible vegetation in these badlands and he was loath to risk foraging near inhabited areas.

Someone _should_ come for him long before that became a consideration, but he couldn't help planning ahead. Multiple contingencies and plans within plans had kept him alive through both combat and covert ops. Tomorrow he'd try to find a crevice where the ground in front was soft enough to plant some sharped branches so there'd be less chance of anything leaping his defenses.

Sam briefly looked up at the emerging stars. He disliked telepathy, but there were thoughts he wished he could send.

_Stop worrying. I can hold out till the cavalry arrives__._

_

* * *

_

.

Denise sat on the observation deck, staring at the planet below. They had only been looking for two days and Sam was one of very few men who were (in her opinion) actually capable of looking after themselves, so he _must_ be alright. His comm had been chewed up, but that did _not_ mean that anything had eaten him. They hadn't spotted a campfire last night, but he'd probably found a nice, safe, hidden cave. Just as soon as she could make that case _calmly_ and _diplomatically_ she would respond to Ambassador Zelor's inquiry about the delay caused by their 'hopeless search'.

Except that it would (correctly) be seen as a slap at the ambassador, she'd be tempted to just forward a listing code from Memory Alpha.

.

Almost three years ago...

Denise sat at a corner table with Julien, to whom she really should be paying more attention. Their relationship was pretty casual, but he had taken two days off to come out here and meet her. Granted, it was because he expected to have more fun tonight than he'd probably had in the last month of sorting through records, but he'd made the trip.

However, her eyes kept wandering to the place where Giotto was sitting in a booth by himself. Where was Capt. Pike? The only time she'd ever seen Giotto hang out in a pub without Pike having dragged him there was when he'd been keeping an eye on trainees that he figured were likely to get into trouble. This was the officers' sector of Luna base. No one would get rowdy here. Surely Pike hadn't gotten so mesmerized by his 'new baby' down in the shipyard that he'd forgotten to meet his friend?

Julien nudged her. "Credit for your thoughts."

_Let's see, there's this older guy on my ship who can take out two Klingons with his bare hands, but I feel like I should be making sure that someone's taking care of him._ Yeah. She wasn't going to say that.

"Sorry, I've just been a little worried about a friend. What were you saying?"

"Well, I was going to tell you about something I found in the archives, but there's history right in front of us." He nodded toward an Andorian woman in Starfleet red who was approaching Giotto's booth.

The woman sat down and put her hand on Sam's. He smiled at her and not in the polite waiting-for-the-right-moment-to-take-my-hand-back way. It was ...surprising.

"TharinJar Shalas," Julien supplied before she could ask. "About 20 years ago she and your Security Chief broke each other out of a Klingon interrogation center. Apparently they were both in pretty bad shape - I mean, _Klingon_ interrogation - but a week later they limped back into Federation territory."

Okay. They'd gone through hell together. That would certainly explain why they looked so close. Not that it was any of her business whatsoever.

"Hey, you work with him right? Both of their official accounts are pretty spare. I don't suppose we could -"

"The Chief doesn't appreciate personal questions."

It was true. And going over there would be unreasonably awkward. _Hi Mr. Giotto, this is Julien Coralis. He's a ...friend. He works at Memory Alpha and he'd like to ask you and your ...friend some questions_. No, that was _not_ happening.

Julien rolled his eyes. "You know I wouldn't ask anything personal. I mean, there's some speculation about them, but he was a guest at her wedding so it's not like there could have been anything serious. _I_ just want some details about how they got out and eluded the search parties."

So she was a friend, an old _married_ friend and Andorians usually married in quartets so Shalas was _very_ married. They still weren't going over there. Even if Denise felt like introducing Julien to a crewmate (which she didn't) he could be relentlessly persistent when it came to interviews and right now Giotto looked more relaxed than she'd seen him in, well, ever. He was leaning forward looking at something on the Andorian's padd and Denise could just make out crinkles near his eyes as he laughed. It was sort of cute.

Denise shook her head, stifling a laugh at what the dread Chief Giotto would think of looking 'cute'.

"I won't be pushy," Julien wheedled. "I'll just mention having read about them and then let them do the talking. Old warriors _love_ telling war stories."

This time Denise didn't suppress the laugh. 'Old warriors' - it was almost tempting to bring Julien over just to see the reaction if he actually used that phrase, but he couldn't be more wrong, at least about Giotto.

"Julien, the Chief has never even mentioned that incident, so I don't think it's something he likes to talk about it." She started to get up. "If you want to stalk them, you're on your own."

"Okay," Julien held his hands up in surrender. "Sit down. We haven't even ordered yet."

Denise glanced over at the booth and couldn't help noticing how slender Shalas was. No. Her mind was _not_ going there. "Julien, I'm not that hungry and I'm starting to feel like a voyeur." She gave him a small smile. "Let's go find something else to do."

Julien grinned playfully. "I hope whatever it is will be worth my while."

"Worth _your _while?" She made a face at him. "Remind me why I put up with you?"

"Because I'm cute?"

She rolled her eyes. "Try again."

"Because I'm giving up a chance at a great story to make you happy?"

"Trust me," she laughed. "You really never had a chance."

Rumor had it that most of Giotto's training sims had come from real experiences, but it was rare for him to admit even tangentially that any of those experiences had been his. Denise tried to refocus on Julien as they left, but some part of her brain wouldn't quite stop thinking about which of those sims might have come from the story that he wasn't going to get.

.

So, Denise reminded herself, Sam had been through worse. He _would_ survive this. And _when_ he got back he'd probably sit there being ridiculously calm while she vented at him for worrying her. The First Rule, the one he relentlessly drilled into everyone (and the Captain in particular), was to avoid a fight if at all possible. It hadn't taken long to learn that he applied it to relationships as well.

Denise wished sometimes that she had met his wife. Maria had by all accounts been a quiet, studious woman but with the sort of underlying steel that would've made even their current occasionally abrasive CMO think twice about actually crossing her. Had it made any difference or had she just been strong enough to deal with the fact that when there was trouble Sam would choose to be the first one in and the last one out? Had being in medical made it easier or harder when med teams were called to the transporter room?

Of course, while they'd been married Sam had been Security Chief on a _normal_ ship: one where the Chief mostly stayed on board rather being dragged along on away missions with a daredevil Captain because he couldn't stand seeing the less experienced people under his command constantly coming back seriously injured or worse.

That wasn't fair (not that she necessarily felt like being fair right now). This time wasn't Kirk's fault and when she'd transferred to their last ship Sam had been recently widowed (and _there_ was an irony) so Pike had made a point of not letting him join anything remotely dangerous for fear that he might be a little too willing to sacrifice himself. In fact, the whole crew had been walking on eggshells around him. It was one of the reasons she'd thought it would be easier to be thought just a friend and confidant if he ever didn't come back.

Now she wasn't so sure...

* * *

_AN: __In my version of AOS history, Giotto came up through the ranks during the Border Wars - a period of conflict that resulted from the Klingons trying to exploit an advantage when the Federation shifted resources to the Romulan border after the Kelvin was destroyed._

_Yes, McCoy's snark about not being a hologram is a small swipe at _Voyager_'s EMH._

_Please r&r  
_


	4. Rule Two

**Rule Two**

_Because there is a time for restraint and a time for action  
_

_

* * *

_

Giotto didn't see anything, but he was sure he was being watched. He'd had some close calls so far, but the sixth sense for danger that had kept him alive all these years hadn't failed him yet (if anything it had kicked into high gear and was keeping him on constant edge). He paused, took two more steps, then dove aside at the last minute and stabbed a crude spear at the spot where puffs of dust indicated paws landing on the spot he'd recently occupied. The creature hissed in pain, but slid back too quickly for him to press the blow home.

Retreating knee-deep into the stream that had been his goal, Giotto held the spear at a slight angle in front of him. The animal was wounded and angry, but unless it wanted to be impaled the only way it could come after him was to enter the water too and then he'd be able to see where it stood. Rule Two was if you have to fight, make it quick and decisive. He desperately needed water and these predators seemed to key on sound.

Sam weaved the tip of the spear slowly in front of him. "Here kitty, kitty, kitty…"

Ripples appeared to his left and Giotto spun and drove the spear in just behind them. He tried to angle outside its reach but exhaustion had slowed him – claws raked across his leg. Falling to one knee, he pushed the spear deeper, struggling to hold it as the creature shrieked and thrashed before finally going still. The animal's shrouding ability died with it, revealing a large cougar-like creature. The gore flowing from its side stained the water yellow/brown and stung where it washed against Sam's torn thigh.

He yanked the spear free and leaned on it to limp a little upstream before falling to drink and refill his canteen. His thirst sated, he pulled out a strip of shredded shirt and quickly bound his leg. After days of living on ration bars even mustard-colored raw meat was almost tempting, but it wouldn't be long before the sound of the creature's death throws drew more of its kind and leaving a good meal for them should buy him some time.

Wet clothing took the edge off the day's heat, but heading for the relative safety of high ground was making his leg throb_. Just keep going. _Sam pushed himself onward focusing on the thought that high ground would also provide a better chance of spotting a search party. It had been five days. The _Enterprise_ should be looking for him by now but this was rough terrain and trying to avoid becoming invisible-critter chow had kept him on the move. A few days ago he'd thought he'd heard a human voice, but no one had been there by the time he'd worked his way to the area. Of course, given a distinct lack of sleep over the past few days it was possible that he'd imagined it.

Once he'd reached a relatively sheltered spot near the ridge line, Giotto eased himself down and pulled out field glasses to scan what he could see of the region below him, especially the places where he'd left signs. There – something had been added below one of his marks. He zoomed in and then had to hold in a laugh. 'The Force is looking for you.' It had to have been Phil.

He started to pull himself up to get a better view, but shadows dotted his vision. That wasn't good. Sam sat back down and noticed blood seeping from the binding on his leg. Frak. If he'd left a blood trail, it wouldn't be long before something followed it and he had to stop the bleeding before going any further.

Giotto began pulling dry bandages from his pack and paused, considering the pieces of cloth he had left. He tied a scrap of red shirt to his spear and planted the makeshift flag beside him. To anything scenting fresh blood it wouldn't matter if he was easier to see, but just maybe some would-be Jedi would spot it.

* * *

.

McCoy watched Jim pace the conference room like a pissed off tiger in a small cage. Considering that his knee still looked like a mile of bad road that ought to hurt. It certainly couldn't be doing him any good, but Bones was tired of yelling at the kid to sit down. Jim was worried and upset and lacking any other useful action, paced for physical outlet. Or maybe to punish himself. Knowing Jim, probably both.

"Shut up, Bones."

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to. You have an extremely eloquent stare." The Captain stopped and leaned against the wall. "I swear to God I'm going to find him and _then_ I'm going to find a way to court martial him for being a stubborn, impossible sonovabitch."

_Takes one to know one_. Uncharacteristically, Bones bit his tongue and didn't say it. "We'll find him Jim."

Given that they'd crashed on that miserable planet after a sudden ion storm had tossed them about like a row boat in a hurricane, it was probably a miracle the _Enterprise_ had picked up their distress signal as quickly as they had. But, because nothing could ever be _easy_, something in those damn hills was playing hell with the ship's sensors. The only sign they'd found of Sam in days of searching on foot was a bit of smashed comm and some marks that hadn't gotten them anywhere so far.

"'See you in a day or two'," Jim quoted bitterly and punched the table.

"Dammit Jim," McCoy got to his feet and examined Jim's hand. "Don't go breaking anything." Bones gave him a wan smile. "At least until we see Zelor – then I'll help you break his neck."

Just to add insult to injury, the same idiot ambassador who had made them physically travel to a briefing on a 'show the flag' mission was insisting that they abandon the search to show up for the stupid event. Why anyone in Command had backed either request was completely incomprehensible, but if they had thought Jim would 'yes, sir' to that last one they had their heads even farther up their asses Bones had ever imagined.

"I think we might have to get in line for killing Zelor." Jim gave him a wry smile. He'd learned some time ago that the few people close to Giotto were extremely loyal and most of them had impressive combat ratings. Near the top of the list was his best friend's girlfriend. "How's Jessy holding up?"

"She keeps reminding herself that Sam used to teach the survival course at the Academy." It was a comforting thought, but the fact that the teams they'd sent down to search were mostly finding big, nasty predators was not. "Have you spoken to Denise?"

Jim shook his head. "She spent two hours on the target range yesterday - probably imagining Zelor on every bull's eye, but I didn't feel like taking any chances." Considering how many times their diplomatic officer had had to smooth things over after one of Jim's escapades, he wasn't exactly her favorite person to begin with and right now anyone with any sense was staying out her way. "I'll never understand why there's not more going on between them. If that woman isn't in love with Sam, I'll eat my shirt."

"You go through a lot of shirts Jim." McCoy was still trying to sort through the little conspiracy the two of them had run to teach everybody (especially Jim) to stay out of their business. That didn't necessarily mean that Bones disagreed. "Tell you what, _when_ we get him back, instead of a court martial maybe we can lock them both in a room together."

The comm beeped. "Captain, the away team reports that they've found something."

"_What_ Uhura?"

"A flag – there's a piece of red fabric blowing on a pole about a kilometer from their position."

Bones could almost see Jim's mind working. Sam might not be there and yelling for him was likely to attract a lot of predators.

"Tell them to maintain silence until they're within visual, but send a signal flag down so if he's nearby he'll see them coming."

Kirk closed the comm and it was like a bubble had suddenly popped releasing his usual optimism. He threw his hands in the air with a smile. "Unbelievable! He's fine. He just finally got tired of hanging out, waiting for us to find him and put up a _flag_."

"Hell, they'll probably get up there and find a whole Robinson Crusoe set-up," McCoy quipped.

"Or a house like Obi-wan's," Jim laughed and then lifted his eyebrows, widening his eyes dramatically. "I'm going to kill him."

"I think you'd have better luck with that court martial," Bones chuckled.

"Maybe," Jim's mouth spread in manic grin. "…or I really _will_ lock him in a room with Marshall and you can whip up some sort of love potion to spray inside." He snapped his fingers and beamed. "_That's_ what I should have done before – quick and decisive, right?"

Oh God. Jim had shot right out the other side of worried and upset into irrepressible crazy. "I was _joking_ Jim, to ease the tension." When was he going to learn? "_Now_ I'm gonna go back to sickbay in case I'm needed."

"Yeah, okay," Jim gimped along after him. "How about sex pollen?"

"_No_ Jim."

"What? You didn't save of that?"

"With _you_ around?" McCoy widened his eyes. "_Hell no_."

"Spores?"

"Hell _to_ the no."

"Porn?"

McCoy glared.

"Jeez, you wouldn't have to tell Jessy."

"Jim…"

"C'mon Bones, work with me here. I'm down to soft music and scented candles."

"Scented candles?" Bones cocked an eyebrow.

"Chicks _love_ scented candles." Jim shook his head sadly. "Honestly, I don't know what Hanlan sees in you."

McCoy smirked. "Well for starters Jim, I'm not _you_."

* * *

_AN: The __conspiracy was part of _Sneakin' Around, _which was mostly about Bones and Jessy, but Jim was trying to deal with the frustration of having to keep his hands off his crew by getting a little too interested in everyone else's lives._

_Please r&r_


	5. Recovery

**Recovery**

_Because there is one consolation in adversity: the possibility of recovering to a better state than you were ever in before_

_

* * *

_

Giotto shook his head and blinked. It looked like there was someone down there in red carrying something green. Either whatever had gotten into his bloodstream was making him hallucinate or Christmas had come really early this year. As he watched, two more people in red shirts and one in blue rounded a rocky outcrop. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, Christmas had come early and not a moment too soon. His head and every half-healed injury ached (and he was determinedly _not _thinking about the one that wasn't healed). He could defend himself if he had to, but knowing he wouldn't be on his own much longer was a real gift.

Sam shook his shabby flag and waved, getting a flourish from a green signal flag in turn. The search party quickened their pace and within a few minutes he could see that that flag bearer was Jessy, accompanied by Nikandros, 'Cupcake' Grossman and Conners.

He waited until they were surrounding him before relaxing the hold on his knife. "About time you got here."

Conners dropped to a knee to run a med scanner over Giotto's inflamed leg. Ruptured plas-skin probably made it look worse than it was. Or at least Sam hoped so.

Jessy's face said that it looked pretty bad. "Dear God, sir, what happened?"

"I think invisible cougar blood disagrees with me." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Aren't you supposed to be on the ship keeping Dan in line?"

The mock reprimand had the intended affect of reassuring her. Jessy shook her head. "And let the boys have all the fun? I don't think so."

"Whatever it is, it's affecting clotting factors," Conners reported. "We should get to sickbay to sort it out."

"Heat signature moving in at 2 o'clock," Cupcake warned.

"Time to go," Jessy signaled Conners and stood, pulling her phaser in one smooth motion to join Nikandros beside Grossman in a protective wall of red. Conners opened his comm. "Away team to _Enterprise_, phased beam out. Two direct to sickbay from my signal; remaining three to transporter room on 5 second delay."

* * *

.

Kirk cringed inwardly when he spotted Marshall leaving the turbolift. This wasn't right. Why did the CMO get to not only chase the Captain out of sickbay, but order him to play gatekeeper as well?

Okay, the answer was that, despite all evidence to the contrary, this Captain actually did have some sense of self-preservation. Days of pent up worry and frustration combined with the fact that Giotto had arrived looking like hell but not actually in critical condition had created the perfect storm, sending Bones into full-blown pissed-off mother hen mode. Whatever anger Jim had held before had instantly evaporated into sympathy upon seeing Sam in a position with which he was all too familiar (but not quite enough sympathy to ignore McCoy's Glare of Impending Doom). Therefore he was now standing inside the outer office door tasked with keeping sickbay from 'turning into Grand damn Central Station'.

Jim held his hands up as Denise approached, launching into the monologue he'd already tested on the away team (with moderate success - Hanlan had been professional about it, but Jim privately suspected that Bones was going to need to borrow some scented candles once this was all over).

"Giotto's going to be okay. Bones says it's all treatable, but no one can go in right now."

"_All_ treatable?" Marshall's face lined with concern. "Just how bad is it?"

Crap. He was going to have to work on the monologue. "Not that bad, really - he's got some cuts and some sort of enzyme got into his blood, but Bones is sure he can fix it," Kirk gave her a reassuring smile. "Other than that, just a little exhaustion; general wear and tear."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Then why can't anyone go in?"

"Because Bones is in a _mood_," Jim rolled his eyes. "I mean he even told me to keep Jessy out, although I think that's mostly because he'd be too uncomfortable cussing at 'Pop' in front of her."

He could see Denise mulling that over. Everyone knew that Bones only cussed out patients with a good prognosis. Jim gave her a little grin to press the point home. "It's kind of disappointing really - I mean, this completely blows my plan to become like a brother to Hanlan so she'll keep Bones from yelling at me." He looked up in mock thoughtfulness. "Probably as well, I'm not sure how the Chief would have taken to the idea of adopting me too."

That last bit had worked. Denise pressed her lips against a small smile and shook her head. "I think he has enough trouble." She paused and met Jim's eyes. "He's going to be alright then?"

It was all there: fear, hope, love. _I may lose a lot of shirts, but not by having to eat them._ Jim nodded and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, Bones reinstalled Spock's _brain_. There's nothing wrong with the Chief that he couldn't fix blindfolded. He's just taking his sweet time because he knows that as soon as he's done I'm going to go in there and call him a crotchety old man and make his patient laugh at him."

Now she did smile a little. "I think I'd like to see that."

"Sure," Jim flashed a little grin. "You know I love an audience. Now go get some coffee or something and I'll comm you when it's time."

"Yes sir," Denise's eyes darted to the door one last time before she turned to go. "And thank you."

Jim sighed. Sometimes it was all he could do to resist hacking Dr. Noel's files to figure out why trying to fix them up hadn't worked. He'd promised after the last incident to swear off matchmaking, but every now and then he still considered 'accidentally' assigning them to the same room on a diplomatic mission. Unfortunately under that devious Security Chief exterior Sam was basically a giant boy scout and would probably do the 'honorable' thing and sleep on the floor.

* * *

.

Kirk paced in front of sickbay. He was a Captain, not a Royal Guard and he intended to tell Bones that if he ever _opened the damn door_. Surely someone would have thought to inform the Captain if something had gone wrong? He was just about to risk his CMO's wrath and barge in anyway when the door swished open. Bones looked tired but he wasn't wearing the 'I've got bad news' face.

"So," Jim grinned and stealthily hit a preset button on his comm. "Finally finished yelling at your patient?"

"Wouldn't matter what I said," he grumbled. "I had to knock him out. Conners tried to take some blood and he nearly broke the kid's wrist."

Kirk felt his eyebrows rise. That didn't sound like Mr. Rule One.

"Yeah I know," McCoy's mouth went sideways. "But Conners came up behind him. Based on Sam's neurochemistry, I'd say he's been in a hypervigilant state for days now and hasn't slept but a few hours for most of it."

Note to self: stop Denise if she tries to rush to his side "Okay, I'll move slowly. Can I talk to him yet?"

"He's awake," McCoy allowed. "But I had to break some ribs to reset them properly and in the interest of keeping him mellow I gave him some serious painkillers before he was alert enough to object. Don't count on getting much of a report."

"Just let me stop guarding the door." Jim walked past him and grinned. "I'm a –"

"Save it Jim."

"Hey, do I step on your lines?"

"All the time."

A sound suspiciously like a snicker came from medbay. Kirk peered in and bit his lip. He was _not_ going to laugh at the expression on his Security Chief's face. Really, he wasn't.

"How are you doing Chief?"

"I don't know sir, but I'm certainly feeling no pain," Giotto widened his eyes with a spacey grin. "Doc must've given me the _good_ stuff."

Jim swallowed a laugh. "Yeah, I can see that."

"Sam!" Denise appeared in the doorway. She must have come as soon as her comm beeped. There was a cup of coffee still in her hand.

"Denise," Sam beamed as she came closer, reaching his hand out. "And you brought me coffee. God, I love you."

Denise stopped dead in her tracks. Her mouth opened, closed, and then she looked at McCoy. "Is he _allowed_ to have coffee with whatever he's on?"

"Just decaf, darlin' – he needs to get some real sleep."

"Decaf?" Sam pouted. _Literally_ pouted.

Jim turned and clamped his mouth shut. Captains did not laugh at wounded officers. He would _not_ laugh. Absolutely. Not. Laugh.

Bones elbowed him. "I think we should go tell Dan and a few other people that Sam's gonna be okay."

"Yeah," Kirk cleared his throat. "I'll, uh, check back once you've had a chance to recover."

"You can stay," McCoy told Denise, relieving her of the coffee, "but not too long. He needs to rest."

Jim just made it into McCoy's office before giving into laughter.

"What?" Bones arched an eyebrow. "You're pretty damn funny on painkillers too. Believe me, I have video."

Jim stopped mid-chuckle. "You don't."

"Wanna bet?" Bones smiled smugly. "Trust me, there's some _good_ footage."

"Not worried," Jim smirked confidently. "I'm adorable when I'm wasted. You probably have to keep reminding the nurses to keep their hands off me."

"More like remind them not to slap you because you're too stoned to know what you're saying," Bones snarked. "Or stop yourself from saying it."

"Speaking of which: coffee?" Jim laughed. "That's the way to the Chief's heart?"

"Grow up," Bones swatted him. "Sam's got no idea what he's saying. The last time you were that out of it you told me you wanted to have my babies."

"Did not." Jim made a face at him.

"Believe what you want," Bones crossed his arms and quirked a grin. "But I have video."

* * *

AN: _Dr. Noel appeared in the TOS episode _Dagger of the Mind, _introduced__ as a psychiatrist and member of McCoy's medical staff._ _Nikandros is a crack marksman and appeared in the Rule Two chapter in _ToaSC Vol I_. Reinstalling Spock's brain is a reference to the TOS episode_ Spock's Brain _(one of those story concepts that makes you wonder what the writers had been smoking)._

_The 'Because...' is paraphrased from a quote by Thoreau._

_Please r&r  
_


	6. Close

**Close…**

_Because close only counts for horseshoes and hand grenades  
_

* * *

Denise drifted awake, enjoying the feel of Sam's arm around her and soft rise and fall of his chest against her side. She cracked an eye open to check the chronometer. Almost 05:30 - normally Sam would have left hours ago. In fact, normally he'd have already checked Gamma shift's reports and headed to the gym, but judging by his breathing, he was still sound asleep.

She snuggled a little closer, smiling smugly. She'd told Christine that she could find a way to turn off his alarm. The truth was that Sam really needed the sleep. The state of hyper-alertness that had kept him alive on Scarpis III hadn't subsided enough to allow him any real rest even in the quieter sections of sickbay. Dr. Noel had been against using drugs and Sam had adamantly refused them, so McCoy had finally agreed to release him - on the condition that he get some decent sleep tonight _or else_. If the Chief didn't turn up to hover around the duty shift he wasn't supposed to be working, no one was likely risk to the CMO's considerable wrath by looking for him.

Nor was anyone likely to risk looking for her, just in case. During the five days that Sam had been missing, Denise had learned just how many people thought of them as 'close… '. Not necessarily 'close' in the sense of actually being lovers, but that nearly audible '...', sometimes with a faint '?' thrown in, implied something just a step (or maybe a small shove) away from it. Considering the fact that there hadn't been any noticeable gossip, it was almost funny. It seemed that for some time now people had carefully stuck with leaving dots behind 'close' because, well, those dots were attached to Cmdr. Giotto and gossiping about his personal life just might invite him to take an uncomfortably close look at yours.

And that really was funny. The man she knew would slit his own wrists rather than abuse his position as Security Chief, but he didn't appreciate gossip and he did have a reputation for knowing everything, so no one was taking any chances. Well, with the possible exception of the Captain who had never met a chance he was afraid to take. The way he had put a hand on her shoulder outside sickbay had said pretty plainly that he'd connected at least a few of those dots.

Denise sighed. She should get up. The Captain had essentially told two admirals and an ambassador to stuff it sideways rather than leave Sam behind on that planet. After all the times she had averted the fall-out from things she could have cheerfully throttled Kirk for doing, she certainly wasn't going to let him suffer any adverse consequences for this one.

Inching from the bed, Marshall considered strategy. Her job usually involved smoothing ruffled feathers, but right now she was much more inclined toward the sort of diplomacy that involved long knives. Those officious prats had insisted that continuing the search for one man (_her_ man) couldn't justify the Flagship missing an inauguration ceremony. As far as Denise was concerned they had run out of Rule One days ago and were now deep in Rule Two territory. People who crossed that line with Sam wound up flat on their backs wondering what had hit them.

Marshall smiled; she had her own ways of performing a take down. The Captain was still a hero for saving earth and as often as the press's interest in every rumor about him had complicated her job, this time, whether he liked it or not, she was going to make that into an asset. Adm. Thompson might be a problem, but Komack was rumored to be considering a run at a Council seat once he retired and if he hadn't figured it out already, it shouldn't take much of a hint to make him realize that any retribution aimed at Kirk - especially for a decision the average citizen would support – could create some serious political backlash. She was equally certain that that weasel of an ambassador would pick right up on the suggestion that pressing complaints against the Captain might not be good for his career.

…Come to think of it, she should probably send a heads-up to Sarek. Spock's political connections were well-known and, Denise recalled with a grin, their Vulcan XO had made 'Your concerns have been noted Ambassador Zelor' sound remarkably like the verbal equivalent of flipping him the bird.

* * *

.

"I won't speculate on what passes for mental health in those logic circuits you call a Vulcan brain," McCoy growled. "But _humans _are supposed to take time off to recover after this sort of thing."

"That you recognize your inability to psychoanalyze me is something for which I am profoundly grateful Doctor," Spock replied smoothly. "However, as Mr. Giotto takes satisfaction in his work, I fail to grasp the shamanistic principle by which depriving him of it should aid in his recovery."

"_Shamanistic principle?_" The doctor's eyes widened dangerously. "Look here you green-blooded -"

"Gentlemen," Kirk interrupted, gesturing with a forkful of now-soggy waffle. "Please?"

"You shouldn't be eatin' that anyway," Bones snatched the waffles away and shoved a small bowl of fruit in their place. "Listen Jim, Sam ought to go on leave - preferably somewhere off this ship."

"Doctor," Spock's eyebrows tilted upwards. "Mr. Giotto is a _rational_ adult. He should be capable of deciding what would be most beneficial to his own recovery."

"_Should be _Spock," McCoy countered. "But no one who keeps jolting awake ready for fight-or-flight ought be dragging every other person who drops by to see him into a planning session for war games."

"Look," Kirk said, attempting to sound patient. "No one's seen him yet this morning and he hasn't been logged on since 21:00 last night. So he's probably following doctor's orders and getting a nice sound sleep in his own bed." Or just hiding out to make Bones happy which is what Jim would be doing under the same circumstances.

"Anyway," Jim continued, trying to change the subject. "I think I may be off the hook for skipping the inauguration. I got a nice almost-apology from Zelor along with a comm from the new First Citizen expressing his appreciation."

"Appreciation that you _didn't_ show?" McCoy snorted. "The man must have daughters."

"_No_." Jeez, sleep with one 'virgin' princess and people never let you live it down. "Appreciation for the article that just appeared all over the news net carrying a quote about how much I regretted not meeting him in person but knew that a leader known for devotion to his people would understand my decision to put the life of one of my crewmen first." Jim cracked a small grin. "There was nice bit comparing our fortitude and resolve to do what was right despite the political cost. Apparently his approval ratings jumped 10 points."

"Laying it on a bit thick Jim," Bones chuckled. "But I guess I understand not tracking Denise down to proof it."

Spock's head tilted. "Why would the Captain ask Ms. Marshall to review an article that she had written?"

"What?"

Kirk nodded smugly. "Seems Marshall was up early twisting arms. She contacted Sarek who has some _serious_ press connections. Anyway, the story went viral - probably because of the incredibly handsome picture," he puffed his chest out a bit, "by the teaser. Next thing you know I'm the First Citizen's new best friend and Zelor has a sudden case of double-think."

"Unbelievable," Bones muttered.

"Yeah," Jim flashed a joking grin. "The Chief better getting around to making a move soon because I think Marshall is finally starting to like me."

.

* * *

Giotto shot straight up in bed, awake and heart pounding. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was on the _Enterprise_. Nothing was hunting him. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax, and opened his eyes.

The room was dark, but judging by the feel of the sheets, he was still in Denise's quarters. She'd insisted that he come here when he couldn't stop checking the security feeds too readily accessed from his own. Even then she had had to essentially sit on him (in an admittedly good way) to make him unwind. Sleep must have claimed him soon after. He glanced at the chronometer. 09:41. He knew he had needed sleep, but it was unusual almost to the point of shocking for him to sleep so long or so soundly, especially outside his own quarters. Sam smiled considering that. It wasn't just exhaustion; that hadn't let him sleep in sickbay. Some part of him seemed to have decided that being next to Denise felt particularly right.

She appeared in the doorway. "It's okay. Lie back down and rest. I'm expecting a comm any minute."

Her hair was pulled back and the usual minimal touches of make-up had been replaced with the carefully applied mask that he couldn't help but think of as war paint. "Who's in trouble?"

"Admiral Thompson."

Giotto felt his eyebrows climb. "You're planning to cross swords with an Admiral?"

"Don't worry. I'm sure he knows by now that Zelor has backed down and Komack isn't going to give him any support. It seems that within a few hours of retrieving you, Komack turned with the wind. This morning he was making noises about Kirk's 'commendable loyalty to his officers'." Her mouth twisted in disgust. "Slimy bastard."

Ah, Starfleet politics as usual - it was good to be home. He stretched. "Some things never change."

"Thompson is about to," Denise sat on the edge of the bed and lightly pushed him down. "But I need you to stay put and be quiet. Pike is going to join the comm for back-up, and if he realizes you're in my bed he's going to spend the whole time with his mouth hanging open, which won't be very helpful at all."

Sam lay back and laughed. If Chris stayed on the feed after Thompson signed off, it was going to be very tempting to walk out there and wrap an arm around Denise just to see the look on his old friend's face. "It might be my last chance to surprise him. At this point people are probably going to notice that I spent the night."

"I think there are certain people who carefully did _not_ to notice that you were here last night and I'm sure they will all continue to quietly _not_ notice no matter what time you leave." Denise ran her fingers along his cheek. "For my part, I don't care who makes the connection anymore. I love you Sam, and I've had close to a week to really consider the idea that I may live longer than you do. It only means that I'd like to spend every night we can together."

That had sounded so close to a proposal that Sam almost laughed, but in the next instant it hit him that he wasn't going to be content to leave it at 'close'. The conventional thing would be to wait and plan this out a little, but there were times to plan and times to act on opportunity. He wouldn't have survived this long if he couldn't tell the difference.

"There is a standard procedure for that," he suggested, lifting his eyebrows a little.

Denise's head tilted as she processed that. "Sam, do you mean... ?"

"If you let me out of bed, I'll get down on one knee." He kissed her hand, smiling hopefully. "I do love you Denise. A lot more than coffee."

The comm chirped before she could respond beyond a broadening smile. Denise stood, lifting an index finger. "Hold that thought until I can kiss you without caring if I smudge my lipstick."

That had sounded like a positive response. Giotto put his hands behind his head and smiled happily at the ceiling. Now he could plan. The Doctor had more or less ordered him to take some real R&R and he was pretty sure Kirk would approve leave for an over-worked diplomatic officer too. Denise loved the ocean and the up-coming war games would be near Alivona – a planet that could put earth's Polynesia to shame…

As the muffled sounds of opening arguments drifted in from the next room, Sam closed his eyes, relaxing in the warm bed and imagining Denise beside him on a sandy beach in a little white sarong. If he'd had any idea of what would result, he'd have gotten lost on a planet weeks ago.

* * *

_AN: It's been modified a little from the original version, but if I'd kept this story in ToSC Vol. III, the story line would have started with this chapter. _

_Please r&r_


	7. Fully Engaged

**Fully Engaged**

_Because it's about time  
_

* * *

"Sam?"

"I'm awake - just resting my eyes." He opened them and sat up as Denise settled across from him on the bed. Even before they'd become romantically involved, she had been aware of some of his less desirable traits - like the fact that it was a good idea to stand a step or two back when checking to see if he was asleep.

Denise draped her arms around his neck and smiled. "Now, where were we?"

"Hmmm" Sam brought his hands to her waist and failed completely at assuming a solemn expression. "I think you were either about to say if you'd marry me or plaster me with lipstick."

"Yes." She pressed his lips with a kiss certain to transfer color and Sam responded gladly. He'd never had less objection to wearing red.

* * *

.

Kirk rubbed his eyes and prayed that when he opened them the long list of mind-numbingly boring status reports on his padd would've magically disappeared. Nope. No such luck. If anyone had told him back in the Academy just how much of being a captain involved sitting behind a desk, he would've switched to majors. Jim sighed and reapplied himself to the list.

He barely looked up when the door chimed. It was probably Rand with more things for him to sign. "Come."

"Do you have a moment, sir?" Giotto entered, coming to a slightly relaxed version of attention.

Jim looked at his Security Chief. His manner was, as usual, formal and polite and it wasn't unusual for him to come by with items that needed the Captain's attention. However, Giotto was _supposed_ to be resting. If Bones caught him back working even partial duty there was going be hell to pay. Not that something like that had ever stopped Kirk, but given that Giotto usually sided with Bones in getting him to stand down, calling him on it was hard to resist.

"I don't know, Chief, is it about something you _should_ be leaving to Jenkins?"

"No, sir," Giotto clasped his hands behind his back. "I've come to request leave."

Well, about damn time. Bones had been on the edge of ordering it, in contrast to Spock's insistence that Giotto should be trusted to know what was best for his own recovery. Jim was sick of refereeing. Now that the Chief had made the decision for them, the only issue would be keeping Bones from sticking his tongue out at Spock and gloating.

"Of course, you're more than entitled," Kirk began marking the order in his padd. "Anything else?"

"Yes, sir," Giotto glanced downward and then cracked a small smile. "I'd appreciate it if you'd authorize leave for Lt. Marshall as well."

Kirk felt his jaw drop. Son of a...

Well, no one had needed to lock them in a room together after all. Jim reset his jaw and grinned slyly. "Okay, but I'm a little surprised. Doesn't this violate some rule about not sharing your private affairs?"

"No," Giotto's smile widened a little. "Once you're engaged the affair isn't all that private."

"Engaged... ?" No, his jaw was _not_ going to drop again. Kirk quickly pushed himself out of his chair and came around the desk, extending a hand. "Congratulations, Chief. That's wonderful."

Sam took his hand, smiling in earnest now. "Thank you, sir."

Jim returned a grin. "When did this happen?"

"A few hours ago."

No way someone like Giotto moved that fast. "I mean, how long have you two been together?"

Giotto chuckled. "Longer than a few hours Captain."

Captain. Oh God, with his first wife, Giotto hadn't let on they were together until he'd asked Pike to marry them. "So do I need to plan on doing a wedding before you leave?"

"That won't be necessary, sir. I haven't bought a ring yet, so it's not quite official. For now we're just telling a few friends."

It was weird. Giotto had yet to concede to calling him 'Jim' and had just named him a friend while sticking to 'sir'. Not for the first time, Kirk wondered if he was going to understand his half-Vulcan XO before he figured out his completely human Security Chief. However at the moment it didn't matter. Jim was too happy at being included among those 'few friends'.

"Okay, I'll keep it just between us until you're ready to make it general knowledge." Kirk paused. "Have you told Bones?"

"Not yet - I figured I'd get leave approved before stopping by sickbay."

"Yeah, I should have guessed. Bones would have followed you in here just to see my face," Kirk laughed. "So how did I compare to Pike?"

"I'll let you know after I tell him," Giotto grinned. "And I'd appreciate it if you let me surprise him. We haven't told anyone off the ship yet and it'll be better if you keep it close to the vest that I won't be here for the war games."

War games. Damn. Their first ones and he'd just gotten word that Adm. Thompson was taking command of the _Potemkin _just for the chance to put Kirk in his place. Of course, Kirk had no intention of letting him do it, but it took more than a great Captain to win. Security was an important part of the equation.

"You won't be back in time?"

"Actually I think it'll be better if I'm not, sir. I'll get Dan up to speed before I go, but I think a win will be more convincing without 'adult supervision'." Giotto gave him a devious smile. "_And_ it might be easier. You see, I have a theory..."

* * *

.

Giotto headed toward sickbay, rested, happy and certain that the doctor would forgive him for checking in late even if the excuse wasn't that he'd been sleeping. Given the shit-eating grin on that Captain's face as he tagged along there wasn't much hope of actually surprising McCoy, but then Denise had probably gotten to sickbay ahead them anyway.

After a little scrubbing to remove all evidence of lipstick, he and Denise had each offered to let the other comm their family first. There had been a short stand off which lead to a discussion of the merits of holding off on the announcement wait until _after_ they were married. Neither wanted the matrimonial mob scene that would result if they were obligated to invite most of his family plus her parent's social network, not to mention everyone that they both knew in Starfleet (in fact it was essentially the same reasoning that had convinced Sam to get married on a ship the first time around). However, since this ship should be focused on getting ready for the war games, they'd agreed to only tell the people on the ship who deserved to know and beg off discussing wedding plans. The later was already proving a little difficult. What should have been a quick comm to notify Spock of an impending request for married quarters had resulted in Denise still politely stonewalling Uhura while Sam left to speak with the Captain.

"Missing someone?" Kirk asked with a knowing grin as Sam looked around for Denise. "Chapel's off duty now you know."

Ah. He'd lost track of the time. If Denise had decided that Christine should know ahead of McCoy, he'd probably be lucky to see her again before dinner. "I suppose we should get the Doctor caught up on the news. Any chance you can keep a straight face, sir?"

"Are you kidding?" Kirk quickly applied an internal dimmer to his grin and stepped in front of the sensor on the doctor's door. "Hey, Bones, what does someone have to do get some service around here?"

"Dammit Jim, what'd you do now? I'm trying to -" McCoy stopped mid-lecture when he noticed Giotto behind the Captain.

Sam lifted his eyebrows. He'd expected to find Jessy in McCoy's office. What he hadn't expected was his entire command team: Dan, Phil and the three women that together with Jessy formed what McCoy had affectionately dubbed 'the coven'. They tried to cover the sudden silence by coming to attention, but the topic of conversation was pretty clear. The doctor had obviously been enlisting back-up to try to convince him to accept leave.

Under normal circumstances, that would have been almost certain to backfire. Starfleet was not a democracy and in Giotto's view Security in particular should be a (mostly) benevolent dictatorship. He arched a disapproving eyebrow at the crowd of red uniforms in front of him. "I hope we're not interrupting anything."

"Now look Sam they're just here -"

"Talking about me," Giotto finished flatly.

"You should all be ashamed of yourselves," Kirk shook his head disapprovingly, making a tsk-ing sound. "Bones, I'm shocked. Whatever happened to confidentiality?"

Sam cleared his throat before Kirk could lay it on any thicker and aimed his best stern expression at his anxious subordinates. "Very well; as long as you're all here, it has come to my attention that there's been resumed speculation about my relationship with Ms. Marshall. I _intend_ to see that it ends."

He paused a beat and then broke into a broad smile. "Because she's agreed to marry me."

There was an instant of stunned silence before a whooping laugh from Kirk broke everyone out of their surprise. "Oh God, Bones, the look on your face!"

A second later Sam was enveloped in a flurry of congratulations. He resolved to access the security feeds later so Denise could see their expressions (and so he could get a better look at the little marker Dan and Phil had passed between them. If those two had had a bet riding on this, so help him, someone was going to regret it).

"Dammit sir it's about time." Jessy was the only one to dare to hug him.

McCoy clasped his hand. "What she said."

"Ditto," Carrie and Julia echoed, laughing.

"So when's the date?" Rachel brought out a padd, ready to start planning. She'd handled most of the arrangements for Carrie and Julia's wedding a few months back and was already set for when her fiancé would finally join the crew. Sam hoped her husband-to-be liked having his life organized to the last detail, because it was going to be.

"We've only been engaged a few hours Boyd. Focus on the war games. Dan's going to need your help planning all the contingencies without me."

"What?" Dans eyebrows shot to his hairline. Phil's weren't far behind.

"You _were_ here to talk me into going on leave weren't you?" Giotto gave him a smug smile. "Well, Denise beat you to it. And she made a very good point about letting you ride without training wheels."

"Dammit Sam," McCoy groused good-naturedly. "If I'd known who to talk to, it would have saved me a lot of trouble."

Kirk rolled his eyes. "And people wonder why I'm not interested serious relationships."

"Don't think you can go that route, Doc," Giotto warned. "My first wife was a medic. I'm immune to spousal arm-twisting on medical issues."

"Oh really?" McCoy bounced a little on his toes. "I coulda sworn you just said Denise convinced you."

"She did," Sam grinned. "I never said that I was immune to the opportunity to spend a week alone with her."

* * *

_AN: I added this chapter for _**DarkEidelon**_ who wanted to see Giotto tell Kirk. The origin of the 'coven' is explained in _Sneakin' Around_. Carrie and Julia got married at the end of_ _that story and it was_ _Kirk's first time officiating. He asked afterward if he did well enough by comparison to Pike to be considered if Giotto ever remarried._

_Please r&r_


	8. Plans and Preparations

**Plans and Preparations  
**

_Because military campaigns shouldn't involve less planning and preparation than weddings_

* * *

.

Kirk sat at the desk in his ready room and checked the chronometer. Giotto and Marshall should be starting leave on Alivona by now. He pulled an apple out of his desk and grinned. He still wasn't sure if they'd been together for some time or if everything had changed after Giotto had gone missing on Scarpis III. He did know one thing: after the war games there would be a wedding but before the wedding there would be a _bachelor party_. Jim had let him think that he'd nixed the idea, but for once the Chief was in for a surprise. There was going to be a party and it was going to be _epic_.

His thoughts were interrupted by a chirp from his terminal. "Incoming transmission from Adm. Pike."

Kirk was sure he'd know as soon as he saw Pike's face if this was about Giotto or the war games, but he needed to get his own game face in place. Sam had asked was to be allowed to surprise Chris himself and Jim wasn't about to ruin that for anything.

Pike's face appeared on the screen. "How's my ship, Captain?"

Nope. He didn't know yet. Jim gave him a half-grin. "_My_ ship is just fine, Admiral."

"Prepared for the war games then," Pike smiled satisfaction. "I hope the Chief hasn't been driving you too crazy with last minute advice."

"No," Jim barely restrained a full grin. "I figure he's leaving that to you – that _is_ why you comm'ed, right?"

"Guilty," Pike acknowledged. "Although I doubt there's much I can tell you that he hasn't already, other than to make sure he has something to keep him occupied if he winds up designated as a casualty. It drives him crazy to have to stand down in the middle of a battle exercise."

Kirk pressed his lips against an encroaching smile. "I don't think that will be a problem sir."

"Yeah, well you don't know –" Pike stopped, looking at his protégé suspiciously. "What aren't you telling me Captain?"

"Just a few surprises for the war games sir," Kirk gave him his most innocent look.

"This is me you're talking to Jim," Chris raised a knowing eyebrow. "There's something going on." He stroked his chin a moment, studying Kirk. "…Something to do with the Chief."

Someday he was going to have to have Spock teach him how to tell half-truths with a completely straight face. Jim raised his eyebrows, affecting an_ 'I can't imagine what you're talking about' _expression.

The admiral stared steadily through the screen. "Spill, Captain. That's an order."

Damn. "He's on leave sir," Kirk waved a hand, covering with a cocky grin. "I figured we should take a handicap. You know, give the other ship a fighting chance."

"Don't get cocky, Jim. This is your first war game. Even if it's just an exercise, you have something to prove here." Pike's mouth formed a thin line. "Now tell me what's really going on."

Jim shrugged. "It just seemed like a good opportunity to let Jenkins handle things on his own before he gets promoted to running security on the _Farragut_. Don't worry. The Chief briefed Jenkins, me _and_ Spock."

"Uh-huh," Pike eyed him skeptically. "And you got Giotto to agree to just brief you and take leave?"

"Well, Dr. McCoy _did_ sort of order him to take R&R," Jim looked up in a partial eye roll. It wasn't exactly the truth, but Bones ordering anything should really be explanation enough to anyone who had ever been in his sickbay. "And 'just brief' doesn't do it justice. According to Spock, we've all been briefed so thoroughly a mind meld would be the only way to get a more complete transfer of information."

"The briefing I believe, but this is Sam we're talking about." Pike gave him a level stare. "Dr. Boyce ordered him to take leave after Maria died and I had to threaten to maroon him to make him do it."

"He requested the leave sir."

"_He_ requested it?" It was more a statement of disbelief than a question.

Kirk gave him his very best blank expression. "Yes sir."

Pikes' brows drew down in concern. "Jim, I know the official report said that he had completely recovered from Scarpis III. Off the record, is Sam alright?"

Crap. He hadn't meant to make Chris worry about his friend, especially when that friend was probably sharing rum drinks with Denise somewhere on Alivona right now ...or doing any number of other things with Denise that Jim was absolutely not going to think about while talking to any admiral, let alone Pike. Time for a redirect.

"He's completely fine, sir. The thing is we don't want anyone to know he's on leave," Jim winked slyly. "Yet."

"I should have known." Pike shook his head, an amused smile on his face. "If it's anything like the last time you beat a test, I probably don't even want to know what he's really up to."

* * *

.

Giotto checked the small padd that the steward had left behind. There were a host of activities available for this cruise, but they had already scheduled what they wanted and the all appropriate boxes seemed to be highlighted. Satisfied that everything was in order, he placed it back on shelf. His only assignment this week was to enjoy R&R (his role in wedding planning from here on out was just agreeing to whatever Denise wanted) but it had been so long since he'd taken a leave that didn't involve keeping an eye on rookies likely to get into trouble that he almost wondered if he'd know what to do with himself if Denise wasn't along.

He looked around while she hung up the clothes she didn't want to have wrinkled. Despite the travel agent's description of the suites as small, after living on a starship their accommodations seemed almost ridiculously large. He walked into the bedroom and smiled. _King-size bed_. It had been years he'd slept in anything that large. Sam turned around and let himself fall backward onto the huge mattress.

A moment latter Denise landed on top of him.

R&R was off to an excellent start.

* * *

.

"How's it going?"

Lt. Cmdr. Jenkins looked up from his padd when Kirk sat down across from him. "Just going over some details sir."

The Captain gave him a somewhat pained look. "I don't suppose there's any chance of getting _you_ to call me Jim?"

"Well, I _am_ Acting Chief for the next week," Dan gave him a half-grin. "So, basically, no."

"You might as well resign yourself sir," Groesner joined them. "We were all put on notice not to get slack. But if you order _Mr. Jenkins_ to loosen up a little, his Second will not object."

"Shut up Phil." Dan snatched one of his French fries. "Or I'll confiscate the rest of these."

"I hope someone's planning to warn the _Farragut_ that their next Chief is a gambler _and_ a thief," Phil teased, taking Dan's pickle in retaliation.

"Speaking of gambling," Dan pushed his padd toward the Captain. "We got a message from Murdock on the _Potemkin_ asking if we'd like to lay a bet."

Kirk looked up, surprised. "This is addressed to Giotto."

"Murdock's been matching wits with him at these things for a decade. There's a standard bet," Dan grinned slyly. "But I thought maybe you'd want to up the ante, you know, given that we're not running a standard game this year."

"Yeah," a broad smile spread on Kirk's face as blue eyes lit with anticipation. "Double it."

Jenkins sent the reply and Kirk lifted his ice tea. "To Rule 3b gentlemen."

They touched his glass with theirs. "To 3b."

* * *

.

Sam fixed the clasp at the back of Denise's dress and leaned in to nuzzle her neck.

"Sam..."

He grinned at her in the mirror. "Motive and opportunity."

"Keep that up and we're going to miss dinner," she teased.

"I've been told that it's impossible to go hungry on a cruise ship," he countered. "But I am hungry."

"Good," Denise turned and cupped his jaw, arching her eyebrows playfully, "because I didn't get all dressed up just to order room service again."

"I _like_ room service, but we go can out to dinner." He kissed her empty ring finger. "Then maybe we can find a jeweler on this floating city."

"That sounds like a plan: dinner, shopping," she gave him a coy smile, "I don't suppose I can talk you into dancing?"

Sam let his eyes sweep her. She was wearing his favorite dress – the one she'd worn when he'd been 'ordered' to ask her to dance and the one she'd been wearing when they'd ducked out to avoid that spectacle and wound up sharing their first kiss. "In that dress I think you could talk me into anything."

"_That_," she teased, "is a very ill-considered thing to say to a woman right before shopping for jewelry."

"Pick out the biggest ring you can stand," he laughed. "Maybe it will save me the trouble of throwing that guy from the hot tub over the railing."

Denise shook her head. "No Sam, if we're going to be married, you have to agree to Rule 3_b_." She kissed him lightly and grinned. "If someone's bothering me, _I_ get to throw him over the railing."

* * *

.

_AN: The _Potemkin_ was one of the vessels that survived the war games with the M5 equipped _Enterprise_ in the TOS episode _'The Ultimate Computer'. _They're probably at a disadvantage this time too._

_Giotto pl__ans most things down to the last possible detail, but he is a guy and he has been married before.__ No one with his observational skills could miss the fact that wedding planning has less to do with arranging the ceremony than with teaching the groom to say 'yes dear'._

_Please r&r_


	9. With This Ring

**With This Ring  
**

_Because when you find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, that life can't start soon enough_

* * *

On an upper deck hung with decorative lights that accented the canopy of stars above, Sam and Denise shared a soft kiss after he slipped the ring on her finger. The moment was interrupted by a flash indicating someone had taken their picture, but Sam was too happy to be annoyed. As they walked back toward the deck railing, a couple of random observers clapped and someone handed them each a glass of champagne. There was another flash and Giotto shot the photographer a look that convinced the man to take his camera elsewhere.

Denise leaned against him, looking up at the stars with a grin. "Do you think anyone's started a pool on the date yet?"

"They should all be too busy for anything like that," he said, putting an arm around her. "But if they have, someone's going to be sorry."

She chuckled and turned to tuck the little charm the jeweler had given them deeper into his suit pocket. Sam tipped an eyebrow when she patted it in place. It might be the local custom, but fertility wasn't exactly on the agenda yet.

Denise lifted her glass, warm laughter in her eyes and an sly smile playing on her lips. The light of a double moon set a shimmering glow to soft curves wrapped in an alabaster dress and Sam smiled as he touched his glass to hers. It had been a long time since he'd let a lieutenant run his life. He was looking forward to it.

.

* * *

The Security Chief of the _Potemkin_ was not a happy man. First his own captain had been replaced by Adm. Thompson, who might have been a fine captain in his day, but had been commanding from a desk for so long now that he probably didn't even know how much he'd forgotten, let alone what new things he'd never learned. Then they'd met with the _Enterprise_ senior officers to go over the game scenario and Giotto hadn't been there. 'Medical leave' - yeah, right. Murdock had known Giotto for years. He couldn't imagine him bowing out of this competition for anything short of a coma, especially when the rest of the crew was a bunch of rookies who'd never been through war games before.

_And_ they'd doubled the bet. That old SOB was up to something, he could just feel it. Thompson might be enough of an arrogant bastard to shrug it off as Kirk being cocky, but Ed Murdock was not going to be played for a fool. He'd sent someone to Alivona 'on leave' too.

Murdock keyed his comm. "Report, Lieutenant."

"Giotto's here sir. He boarded a ship for a pleasure cruise of the Imari islands three days ago."

"Some medical leave," Murduck snorted.

"I don't know, sir. I hacked the surveillance from the embarkation terminal. There's stripes of regen'd skin all over his arms and he seems to be traveling with a nurse."

"A nurse?"

"Well, she carries herself like she's Starfleet and she seems to be in charge of him -"

"In charge of him?" Ed almost laughed at the notion. "How so?"

A grainy local security vid came on the screen. It showed a 30ish woman putting her hands on Giotto's shoulders and gently pushing him down to sit on a bench beside a pile of luggage. She smiled patiently, explaining something before turning away. Giotto watched her walk to the boarding desk to make arrangements and then he sat back, glancing around with a vague look. After a few moments, a porter came for the luggage and the woman took Giotto's arm and walked him up the gangway.

"See?" Roberts asked. "If they're hiding something, I think it's that he's really on a psych leave and it's serious enough that they had to send a nurse along to take care of him."

"Or it's all an act and she's some other sort of assistant," Murdock snapped. He knew that look - it was what any decent security man affected while scanning a civilian site for anything suspicious. "Check the passenger list of that ship for anyone of strategic interest and find a way to keep an eye on him. Murdock out."

Ed chewed the inside of his cheek. There were a million other details he ought to be taking care of before the war games, but this nagged at him like a tooth ache. If Sam Giotto was conscious and able see straight, he had some sort of surprise brewing and Kirk already had a reputation for always being up to _something_. The question was: what?

.

* * *

Bones leaned over Jim's shoulder to get a look at his padd and then smacked him across the back of the head.

"Ow!" Jim shot him an accusing look. "What was that for?"

"Dammit Jim," McCoy scolded. "You're supposed to be planning out war games, not a bachelor party."

"Hey," he protested. "As soon as you start getting all worried, that's when things go pear-shaped."

"Yeah? Well you should still be working on, you know..." McCoy widened his eyes. "_Work_."

"Look, the last thing the Chief did was remind us that battle plans are always the first casualty. So I'm staying flexible."

"Flexible. By planning a bachelor party." Bones crossed his arms and cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "So if Thompson starts getting the best of us, I suppose you're gonna start beaming strippers onto his bridge?"

Jim grinned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You know Bones, that's not actually a bad idea..."

"Just because it'd work on _you_..." Bones threw his hands up and then froze as realization hit him. He spun, snatched the padd and scowled. "_Good Lord Jim_, you're gonna get the man divorced before he's even married!"

"Jeez Bones, it's not like I'm hiring hookers." He paused. "Do you think the Chief would object to hookers?"

Bones swatted him again, this time with the padd.

"Hey, hitting a superior officer," Jim gestured to himself. "That's like a court martial offense."

"So's hiring hookers you moron!" Bones growled waving the padd. "Do you really think Sam would want this? Keeping _adolescents_ like _you _from getting into trouble with this sort of nonsense is the reason he doesn't usually get any real R&R."

"Exactly!" Kirk exclaimed jabbing a finger at Bones. "The Chief's going straight from being 'Pop' to getting married. He deserves a night to totally cut loose - stop being all caution and restraint and get crazy and reckless for a change!"

"He just proposed to a woman Jim," McCoy shook his head and hit 'delete' before handing the padd back. "Trust me on this kid, short of just running off and eloping, that's about as crazy and reckless as a man can get."

.

* * *

Sam put his drink down and laid a hand on Denise's as the beach music got near the right verse. He grinned at her and sang along with '…Now, I go for younger women…'

Denise smacked his shoulder lightly and tried bite back a smile. "Mr. Giotto, _you_ are buzzed."

"I think you may be right, Mrs. Giotto." He leaned back in his beach chair, adjusted his sunglasses, and smiled. It felt incredibly good to be able to say that to someone again. And she was right. The complimentary drinks on this island contained an unexpected amount of rum and the local version seemed to be particularly strong.

However, for once he could indulge. Security on this cruise was someone else's problem and he'd left the _Enterprise_ in Dan's capable hands after doing everything he could to prepare them for the war games. Half of winning was getting in your opponent's head and when Jenkins had dubbed having him gone for this 'Rule 3b', Giotto had known his Second was ready. In fact, being absent might turn out to be the most devious trick he'd ever played on Murdock.

Taking another sip of mostly-rum, Giotto carefully put it out of his mind. Denise, the Doctor, the Captain, Dan, Phil, Jessy and the rest of the coven had all made him swear that he was not going to think about work again until he got back from leave.

Sam looked over at new wife, watching her chest rise and fall as she drew in the salt air. She took his hand and he felt the smooth underside of her ring against his fingers. _With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, with this pledge my love and life to thee I bind. _ A simple formula in archaic language, but its history and eloquence had appealed to them both.

Newly wed and with nothing to do for the next three days but enjoy it, Sam decided that not thinking about the _Enterprise_ really shouldn't be difficult at all.

.

* * *

_AN: __Yes, of course they eloped. Simple, low-key and really, if you even suspected Jim was planning a bachelor party, what would you do?_

_The wedding vow is adapted from one dating back to the 16th century. Since even in this century most people have dropped the endowing of worldly goods, I replaced the last part of the formula with a (possibly more ancient) hand-fasting vow._

_The verse Sam sang is from '_A Pirate Looks at 40_' (if any 20th century songs survive into the 23rd, Jimmy Buffet songs will still be played on tropical beaches)._

_Apologies for the late update (a coworker died unexpected and it's thrown all of us). If you haven't guessed it yet, Rule 3b will be defined in the next chapter._

_Please r&r_


	10. A Fair Fight

**A Fair Fight**

_Because if you find yourself in a fair fight, you di__dn't plan your mission properly_

* * *

Lt. Jerry Roberts was beginning to think his CO was losing it. Okay, Roberts knew Giotto's win record and obviously the guy was a good tactician, but he was also way the heck out here on leave. Why was Murdock so worried? Jerry had tailed Giotto and his traveling companion (not a nurse, but definitely in the non-essential personnel category for war games) around the island all day. Most of that time he'd sat at a pier side coffee shop while they'd snorkled, wind-surfed and then lounged around at lunch getting toasted on free rum drinks. He hadn't even had to get up until they went for a long walk on the beach. The only remotely suspicious thing going on was that they seemed to be having an affair and since their captain had to have approved both leaves, it probably wasn't even illicit.

Roberts glanced unhappily at the dusk-darkened sky. Just his luck to draw a CO who was completely mental when it came to the competition. While the real action was about to start just outside the star system, he was stuck here watching a couple take a romantic stroll down the boardwalk. They were so absorbed in each other that they hadn't even noticed they were being followed. It was pathetic really. How could Murdock possibly be worried about these people?

Oh great, they were stopping in another shop to look at trinkets. Jerry stepped around the corner to grab a drink from a vending machine, all the while morosely resolving to eat the business end of a phaser before he ever let himself get stuck with this type of assignment again.

Just as he bent down to retrieve his drink he was yanked backward with someone's wrist bone jammed so hard into his larynx that he couldn't breathe. The attacker twisted him off balance before he could kick or strike back and shifted his hands to where one sharp twist would snap Jerry's neck.

"Don't try anything and I won't hurt you ..._much_," his assailant growled. "Who are you and why are you following us?"

Frak. Jerry suddenly understood why his boss was a little paranoid. Giotto looked like he was just waiting for an excuse to hurt him _a lot_. "Lt. Jerome Roberts, _USS Potemkin_. Cmdr. Murdock ordered me to follow you."

"Honestly Sam," the woman stood at the shop's side delivery door. "We come all the way out here to get a real leave for a change and work _literally_ follows you."

.

* * *

"Direct hit!" Chekhov crowed.

"Their aft shields are at 10%," Spock reported.

"Answering fire," Sulu warned. "Starboard shields at 60%."

"Excellent," Kirk lean forward in his command chair. "Thread the needle Mr. Sulu and bring us around. Mr. Jenkins alert boarding parties. Where can we send them?"

A ship's diagram came up on tactical. "The obvious target is engineering, but Murdock knows who trained me, so the first team will hit a secondary target: the phaser control room. That'll be expectedly unexpected enough to keep them from being suspicious. We'll send the second group simultaneously to try to confuse their sensors, dropping the main force into the lounge."

"The lounge?" Sulu looked over in surprise.

"Empty during a red alert and right next to their communication center. Once we control shipwide communications they are totally screwed," Dan beamed a grin and bowed slightly to Uhura. "Especially since we did a little magic with voice recordings from the pre-game conference."

"We'll fire to further confuse them. On my mark, Mr. Jenkins," Kirk nodded with a broadening smile. Adm. Thompson had taken command of the _Potemkin_ for these games just to prove he could out-maneuver the _Enterprise_'s 'stripling upstart' of a Captain, but the smug look Thompson had gotten when they'd 'admitted' that Giotto had been 'forced to take medical leave' was going to be the last one he'd ever dare to show around the _Enterprise_ crew. ('Hardly seems fair to best them without even one experienced officer on their side' Ha!) Murdock at least had looked suspicious to the point of paranoia, and those at-odds reactions were undoubtedly causing some friction in that command team.

It was about to get worse. "Now," Kirk ordered.

They dove and swooped up, targeting the weakened shield to bring it down, then slowed only slightly to thread between the _Potemkin_'s nacelles where answering fire would be suicidal. Both ships shuddered as their shields brushed. It was a dangerous move - something not one in a million pilots would even try. Fortunately Sulu was one in ten million.

"Boarding parties away," Jenkins reported.

"Punch it," Kirk ordered and Sulu accelerated into a wide spiral that would force the _Potemkin_ to come about to engage. "Fire at will Mr. Chekhov. Let's see if we can bring down any more shields while their phaser crew is occupied."

.

* * *

_Potemkin_ Chief Engineer Ramesh Bhanjee watched the computer display grateful that this was all simulated attacks registering mock damage. Otherwise his systems would be taking a beating.

"Mr. Bhanjee," the admiral's voice came across comm. "Cut engines."

"Sir?"

"Kirk's not the only one with tricks. We're going to play dead and lure him in."

It seemed like a strange order. With the aft shields down, they were likely to have a boarding party storming engineering whether they played dead or not, but who was he to question an admiral (especially one who didn't take well to questions)?

"Aye, sir."

.

* * *

Adm. Roger Thompson clenched his fists. Kirk was a mad man and his helmsman must be descended from kamikazes.

"Forward shields at 40%, starboard down to 20," Lt. Green reported.

"Hard to port," Thompson ordered.

"Helm not responding, sir."

"Damage reports coming in from all decks." The comm officer touched his ear piece. "Heavy casualties in engineering. Mr. Bhanjee says there's damage to the impulse engines and they've had to seal off the lower main section."

"Tell him to get those engines back on line! Apply thrusters Ms. Turan. Get us to a position where we can return fire."

A voice came over his chair comm. "Position won't do you any good, sir."

"What? Who is this?"

"Lt. Jessica Hanlan sir, _USS Enterprise_," she called back proudly. "We've taken phaser control and sealed off the room."

Roger slammed off the comm channel. "Ready photon torpedoes."

"Sir! Torpedo room reports they are under attack by boarding parties."

Damnation! "Where the hell is Murdock?"

.

* * *

Cmdr. Murdock looked suspiciously at the four _Enterprise_ officers standing in the phaser control room. They'd caused a moment or two of havoc, but he'd had security waiting. This was exactly the sort of thing someone would expect from an amateur like Jenkins who'd only had a year to shadow Giotto - and that was what worried him. That and the fact that there were only four of them. There should have been at least six.

"Which of you is in charge?"

The largest of them came to attention. "Lt. Warren Grossman sir."

"Where's the rest of your party Lieutenant?"

"I'm sorry sir, but we can't answer you." Grossman smiled smugly and pointed to his vest. "According to game rules, we've all been stunned or killed while engaging your forces. None of us can do or say anything until it's over."

Murdock nodded. It had been worth a try. "Mr. Zhiaxing, take them to holding. The rest of you, fan out and look for the others."

This had the feel of a trick and Roberts hadn't checked in before the games started. Damn but he wished he knew what Giotto was up to.

.

* * *

Lt. Roberts struggled, testing his bonds, but it was hopeless. Giotto's mistress was apparently really good at tying knots (a fact Jerry resolved not to think about any more than absolutely necessary). Being found bound and gagged in a hotel room was going to be embarrassing, but all things considered he'd gotten off easy. Giotto could have KO'ed him and dropped him in a dumpster, which is what he'd have been tempted to do if he'd caught someone stalking him and his girlfriend on a romantic getaway.

Combat in space tended to be over in a matter of hours if not minutes, especially when both ships were confined to a given battle zone, and Jerry resigned himself to waiting. Even if he could get free, it wouldn't do much good now to tell Murdock that his rival's cunning plan was to disappear and let the _Enterprise_ crew prove that no one should assume they were too young and inexperienced to handle things on their own.

If Roberts ever made it to Chief, he was going to make a point of remembering Rule 3b.

.

* * *

"Security to lateral sensor array! Intruder alert!"

Murdock smiled. That made sense. This Jenkins was following Giotto's playbook after all. A few people against the squad Ed had waiting there was going to be a short fight, but there was no use taking chances. He signaled his squad to go and headed to his office at a run.

There hadn't been any other intruder alerts, but Giotto had gotten him last time by slipping a second boarding party in while the sensors were strained. This time he had a countermeasure for that. It wouldn't help much in a real battle where the number of KIA was in flux, but it wasn't _technically_ cheating to count the number of life signs on the ship and it would only take the push of a button on his computer.

Murdock keyed open the lock to his office and his vest flashed, signaling him a casualty. A young man sat with his feet up on the desk, pointing a laser-tag gun at him. "Hello, Cmdr. Murdock. Lt. Phil Groesner, _USS Enterprise_, pleased to meet you sir."

"How did you get into my office?"

"Vulcan Science Officer," Groesner held up a small padd. "We haven't run into a piece of technology yet that he couldn't crack, but just to fine tune things, we spent a couple days having Mr. Giotto try to keep us from breaking into his office." The young man smiled amiably. "You might want to ask for some pointers after this over - yours was easy."

Murdock ground his teeth. "I knew Giotto wasn't really on leave."

"But he is sir. In fact, there's a message for you." Groesner rose, allowing Murdock to take a seat at his terminal. The screen showed a picture of a sunny tropical beach. At the bottom was a message:

'Hi Ed,

Greetings from Awani, Lt. Roberts wishes he wasn't here. When you get a chance, he's waiting for you to pick him up. Room 3, Balamalu Hotel.

-Sam'

.

* * *

"Admiral, we're being hailed by the _Enterprise_."

Thompson looked around the bridge. They'd lost aft, starboard and ventral shields. The engines were down. Boarding parties were apparently in control of phaser and torpedo bays and his Security Chief was MIA.

"On screen."

"Admiral," Kirk sat in his command chair looking like a cat happily digesting canary. "Your ship is severely damaged and we have a clear shot at your exposed belly. I can fire until your ship is listed as a total loss, or you can surrender and we can all just head back to the starbase for a few beers."

"This is supposed to simulate a real battle, Captain. You wouldn't fire; you've got too many boarding parties on this ship."

Kirk pursed his lips. "Well, I could send more to overwhelm you, but that would take awhile and it'd be easier to just beam back my 20 people and then blow you away."

Roger felt his eyebrows climb. "20?"

"Mr. Giotto could probably have done it with 12," Kirk tapped his lips trying to disguise a grin. "But Mr. Jenkins wanted to play it safe. I'm sure once he gets a little more _experience_, he'll have more confidence in the excellence of our security officers."

Schooling his features to careful formality, Thompson straightened. He hadn't missed the reference to the man Kirk had defied him to retrieve or the not-so-subtle dig. However, while Roger certainly did not like losing, he was capable of admitting when he'd been bested in a fair fight and doing so graciously.

"Very well, Captain, I concede defeat. Is Mr. Jenkins present?"

"Here, sir." The sandy-haired young man appeared by the Captain's chair.

"My compliments Mr. Jenkins, I confess that I underestimated you. Whoever captains the _Farragut_ will have a fine Chief."

"Thank you, sir. I was trained by the best," Jenkins stated proudly. "But the real credit goes to an outstanding Captain and crew."

Thompson nodded acknowledgment, shifting his attention to Kirk. "Captain, I believe it's no secret that I have questioned the wisdom of your rapid promotion. I do so no longer."

"Thank you, sir. I had the advantage of the best crew in Starfleet, and for the record, you gave us a good fight."

"Thank you. It should take an hour to return to standard ship operations." Roger smiled. "Then we can rendezvous at the starbase for those beers - and remember, Captain, the winner buys."

.

* * *

_AN: Rule3 is that no one should underestimate an opponent because he has gray hair. But age and fame can lead to the same arrogance as youth and strength, hence the need for Rule3b._

_For reference, Lt. Grossman is Cupcake. (And Denise learned to tie knots on her parents' sail boat, so get your minds out of the gutter. ;D)_

_Please r&r  
_


	11. Congratulations

**Congratulations**

_Because one of life's joys is sharing good news with friends_

* * *

Jim Kirk sat at the bar near the base's shuttle bay enjoying a cold beer. Life was good. They'd won their first war game, totally won over Adm. Thompson, and collected two cases of fine liquor. To top it all off, they'd all gotten a couple days of shore leave on Alivona.

Jim had avoided the Imari islands, figuring Giotto and Marshall would want a little privacy, but there had been more than enough other locations to choose from. Alivona was a beautiful, earthlike planet with friendly inhabitants. Very friendly. Jim smiled thinking about the little fertility god charm in his pocket. He couldn't wait to see Bones' face when he showed it to him, which should be soon. The handful of people who knew that Sam and Denise were engaged had planned to gather here to meet their shuttle and welcome them back with a little surprise reception.

"Hello, Captain. I hope this seat isn't taken."

Kirk almost did a double-take as Adm. Pike slid onto the seat next to him. "No sir, but I didn't expect to see you here."

"Just passing through - thought I'd take the opportunity to congratulate you in person." Pike smiled and held out a hand.

Jim clasped it, beaming back at him. "Thank you." Add making his mentor proud to the list of things making life good right now. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"That's okay," Pike winked signaling the bartender. "I think I'm in a high enough pay grade to buy my own."

"Tell that to Adm. Thompson. After I saw the tab the winner was supposed to cover, I had to wonder if he hadn't lost on purpose."

"I probably should have warned you about that," Chris laughed. "Off-duty, Roger drinks like a fish."

"Yeah," Jim snarked. "That would have been good to know _before_ I mentioned going for drinks afterward."

"Speaking of information," Pike said casually, collecting his drink. "I'm still curious why Giotto requested leave. He doesn't seem to have been part of any trick to give you an edge."

Add knowing a secret the admiral didn't and the likelihood of getting to watch Giotto spring the surprise on his old friend to the 'life is good' list. Jim smiled. "No, but it did prove that us 'kids' could manage without the designated adult on board."

"I suppose it did," Chris laughed, lifting his glass in a small toast. His eyebrows rose slightly as he eyed Kirk with a suspicious smile. "In fact, I hear he wasn't the _only_ officer to take leave during the games."

"There were a couple people with leave built up who weren't essential for war games." Kirk sipped his beer, playing it cool. No way was he giving anything away.

"Uh-huh." Pike narrowed his eyes a little, one corner of his mouth curving upward. "I don't suppose any of them joined Sam on that cruise?"

"Sir," Jim gave him a reproving look. "You _know_ how the Chief is about privacy."

"Yes, Jim, I do." Pike fixed him a level stare. "And I hope _you_ know that I don't intend to let him catch me _again_ not knowing he's even seeing someone until the day before he gets married."

The shuttle would be arriving in 10 minutes. Jim gave Chris a completely sincere smile. "I don't think you've got anything to worry about there."

"Because he's not seeing anyone," Pike took a sip of his beer and chuckled. "Or because he and Denise Marshall are going to get off the next shuttle together?"

"You knew."

"Ha!" Pike slapped the bar. "I do now."

Frak. Giotto was never going to trust him with a secret again.

"Don't worry, Jim, I was just looking for confirmation. It seems Murdock sent someone to figure out what he was really up to." Chris leaned in, grinning. "The rumor has it that Sam caught the guy spying on a sunset stroll and left him hog-tied in a hotel room."

"That sounds about like just desserts," Bones commented, joining them along with Jessy, Spock, Uhura and Chapel.

Spock's eyebrow rose. "I fail to see was how the story relates to the sweet course served at the end of a meal."

"It means he got what he deserved, you pointy-eared dictionary." McCoy rolled his eyes.

"Not nearly what he deserved," Jessy put in. "I would have dumped some itching powder on him too."

Bones draped and arm around her waist looking at her adoringly. "I love the way you think, darlin'."

"Really?" Pike's eyebrows rose and everyone, except Spock, laughed at the surprise on the admiral's face.

"Yep," Kirk nodded. "They're the most frightening couple on the ship."

"I thought we were all here to toast the most the frightening couple on the ship," Groesner put in as he and Jenkins joined them with remainder of the coven not far behind.

"They're not the least bit frightening," Chapel scolded. "Or at least Denise isn't."

"You're not in Security," Dan scoffed. "The Chief was getting some his most evil disciplinary schemes from Marshall even before they were a couple." He flashed a grin. "Once I get settled on the _Farragut_, I'm going to look for someone just like her."

"Not likely," Phil snarked. "Someone like that would be way too smart to fall for you. Now _me_ on the other hand…"

"Wait, back up a minute," Pike held his hands in a time out signal before Dan could retort. "_All_ of you knew that they're together?"

"That is our purpose for being here," Spock explained. "To toast Mr. Giotto's good fortune."

"Spock…" Jim warned under his breath.

"Oh no," Pike held up a hand and smiled at Spock. "I want to hear this. What good fortune?"

The Vulcan's eyebrows drew down in a vee. "His engagement to Ms. Marshall. Is that not why you are also here Admiral?"

"Engagement." Pike's eyes lit with glee.

"Please, sir," Jim begged. "Try to act surprised. He wanted to tell you himself."

"I'll _bet_ he did," Pike chuckled. "Probably planned to drop by office and watch my jaw drop when he asked if I had a moment to conduct a quick ceremony in Academy chapel. Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting to turn the tables on him?" He leaned back against the bar grinning. "Thank you. You've made me a very happy man, Spock."

Spock wore a somewhat lost expression. "I am uncertain whether to be gratified at providing you with such pleasure or disappointed to have ruined Mr. Giotto's surprise."

"It'll be alright Spock," Uhura assured him. "I'm certain Denise is going to be wearing a nice ring when they get back, so I'm sure Adm. Pike would have noticed anyway."

Chris ducked his head a little. The truth was that Maria Nicolini had walked into his office with Sam and he hadn't even noticed the ring (that she had apparently been wearing for a week) until after the shock of being asked to perform a wedding for two people he had never imagined to be more than med tech and patient/research subject. Sam had ribbed him for a _year_ about how someone with his eye for tactical detail could have missed one of his oldest friends falling in love right under his nose.

Well, not this time. Pike retrieved his cane and eased off the bar stool when the board showed the shuttle arriving. He shook his head at the officers starting to stand to join him. "No, you stay here. I want to congratulate my old friend all on my own."

Jim started to open his mouth to protest and Pike fixed him with a stare. "You can consider that an order."

* * *

.

Chris smiled to himself as he walked (okay, hobbled, but in a dignified manner) toward the gate. He would never admit it of course, but in all honesty, someone could have knocked him over with a feather when he'd heard who had helped to tie Murdock's man up in that hotel room.

Marshall had been assigned to his command a few months after Maria had died and because no one (most especially Sam) was saying a word about it, Denise had become quietly infuriated by the 'robotic bastard of a Security Chief' who was at the time driving everyone crazy by obsessively throwing himself into his work. Granted, once she'd finally learned why the Chief was unrelentingly drilling everyone (with special focus on the newest members of the crew) on responses to every imaginable threat scenario, she'd felt badly enough about her initial assessment to go the extra mile to befriend him.

Still, it had been only friendship. At the time Marshall had pretty clearly been involved with a researcher at Memory Alpha and Pike knew for a fact that Giotto had conspired with Prof. Conway two years ago to manufacture the appearance of a relationship just to put an end to the various well-intentioned attempts to get either of them back into circulation (sending roses on Valentine's Day had fooled Cheryl's entire department, but after all the years he'd known Sam, as far as Chris was concerned, he might as well have sent an actual red herring). So, Sam might be the most circumspect person in the universe when it came to romantic affairs, but this couldn't possibly have been going on for that long.

Pike watched in happy anticipation as Giotto and Marshall came through the shuttle door together. The glint of a ring was just visible where Denise held the shoulder strap of her bag. He waited for them to get just close enough before raising a hand to wave.

Score! Sam nearly did a double-take.

"Well, if it isn't Lt. Marshall and Cmdr. Giotto," Chris rocked against his cane since he couldn't exactly bounce on his toes. "Imagine running into the two of you here. Together."

Giotto shook his head with a disbelieving smile. "I must be losing my touch. I obviously didn't scare Roberts enough to keep his mouth shut."

"It's not Roberts' fault. Murdock felt duty-bound to inform me. I mean, no-nonsense Chief Giotto ditching war games to go mooning after a pretty young woman?" Chris raised his eyebrows and grinned at Denise. "I don't know what you've done to him Marshall, but I'm here to investigate."

"I promise sir, there were no drugs involved," Denise pressed her lips against a smile and looked slyly up at Sam, "although I did bring him coffee."

Sam laughed. "Really, Chris, how was I supposed to resist that?"

"She's going to ruin your reputation," Chris smiled smugly. "You better hurry up and get married."

They exchanged a glance and Denise took Sam's hand. "We already are."

"So I hear – congratulations! When's the…" He stopped, finally noticing that the part of his brain that connected ears to intellect was jumping up and down frantically trying to get his attention. "…excuse me, come again?"

Sam grinned. "We're already married."

Pike carefully closed his mouth and looked quickly over at the bar. No one was laughing. His eyes slid back to the couple and in particular the look on Sam's face. "_You_ eloped? Isn't that a little, oh I don't know …_hasty_ and _impulsive_?"

"We're not teenagers," Sam objected. "We had well thought out reasons."

"Two in particular," Denise ticked them off on her fingers. "Jim Kirk. Bachelor party."

Chris laughed out loud. Not only did that combination add up to complete fiasco, but he seriously doubted that a minor detail like Sam already being married was going to deter Jim in the slightest (and now that he knew, Pike had every intention of demanding an invitation).

"Come on," he coughed, recovering his composure. "I can't wait to see you break the news."

.

* * *

_AN: Drawing the end out a bit, but I haven't quite got the wrap up smoothed out yet and it was getting a little long for one chapter anyway. Plus, Pike really deserves a chapter all to himself don't you think?  
_

_Please r&r_


	12. Celebrations

**Celebrations  
**

_Because__ getting married isn't a happy ending but a happy beginning_

* * *

.

"What do you think?" Kirk held his hands up in showman's gesture around the little fertility god sitting on the table.

Spock pursed his lips, examining the object. "It …lacks aesthetic appeal."

"You mean that it's butt ugly," McCoy drawled. "Honest to God, Jim, that has got to be the tackiest engagement gift in the known universe."

"Hey, it's just for decoration. A cute chick from the planet gave it to me as a little memento," Jim flashed a saucy grin. "You know, of a _great_ evening."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Remind me to check that you didn't get any other 'mementos' when we get back to the ship."

"Shhh," Jessy warned. "Here they come."

* * *

.

Jim grinned as the couple was herded toward them by an admiral who was practically radiating smug. Pike must have gotten the jump on them. They didn't look too disappointed though - more tolerantly amused, like a couple who had just been razzed by their single friend for being a little too into each other in public. Kirk laughed to himself. His Security Chief and PDA were two things that did not go together (and Jim had every intention of harassing him about it if kissing the bride at the wedding was restricted to just brushing lips). In fact, for a couple about to get married there was a ridiculous amount of light between the bodies.

Boyd barely waited for Pike to reclaim his seat before stepping up, padd in hand and obviously ready to take down a date.

"Put that away Lieutenant. There isn't going to be a wedding," Giotto solemnly. "You see after a couple days of sharing a cabin together we decided –"

He was cut off by Carrie and Julia, who'd sighted rings. "You're already married!"

Surprise quickly gave way to laughter, especially when Jim heard Pike guffaw at Giotto being caught out, although there was probably some chance that the look on his own face had contributed to the admiral's amusement. This was going to seriously complicate holding a bachelor party and there was probably some rule of etiquette against a guys-only wedding reception with exotic dancers (not that that meant that he was canceling any plans yet).

"Congratulations," Jim said as Sam and Denise took places at the bar. "You planned this all along didn't you?"

"More or less," Giotto admitted and then his hand suddenly slapped down to trap something passing between Jenkins and Groesner. His eyes narrowed as he held up a little plastic marker. "If this is what I think it is, you two had better have a really nice wedding gift ready."

Dan raised his eyebrows diffidently. "Does a whole case of Murdock's liquor count?"

Sam stared sternly and then smiled. "Good enough," he pocketed the chip, "plus whatever the bet was."

"Polishing boots," Dan nudged Phil. "Guess you'll be doing _Mrs_. Giotto's too."

Denise lifted her chin. "What makes you think he isn't _Mr_. _Marshall_?"

Jim caught himself mid-snicker and covered with a joke. "Well whaddya know," he quipped in a Texas accent. "There's a new Marshall in town."

McCoy groaned. "I'm guessing _that_ would be the reason."

"Pretty much," Sam agreed and gave Denise a fond look. "But I certainly don't object to an extra alias."

* * *

.

While people were busy with catching up and congratulations, McCoy pulled Jim aside. "I think you better cancel that bachelor party."

"Ye of little faith," Jim scoffed. "A little detail like the bachelor being married already is hardly an insurmountable challenge for a tactical genius."

Bones briefly wondered if there was some way to throw the next war game. Captain Cockiness was going to be completely insufferable for the foreseeable future. "Look, _genius_, Sam's a newlywed. There's no way he's gonna go out with a bunch of guys to watch women he _can't_ touch when he's got a pretty new bride that he _can_."

Jim laughed. "Well, if you put _that _way, I guess we should hold off on the party until the newlywed-ness wears down a little." He slipped out a palm-sized padd. "We'll just change this to a wedding reception."

"At the _Shady Lady_? Jim, are you _insane_?"

"Hey, it's a classy place," he started tapping the padd. "Let's see: adjust reservations, a few changes in personnel, keep cake, cancel girl in cake …unless, Bones, do you think Denise would agree to jump out of a cake?"

Bones smacked him.

"Jeez, I was joking." A devious grin crossed his face. "_Although_, the original plan was to get Sam drunk enough to loosen up a little and if we got them _both_ hammered…"

"Jim…"

"C'mon, don't tell me you wouldn't pay to see the look on Sam's face - especially if he was a couple quarts low on inhibitions."

"Has it occurred to you," McCoy asked treating him to a get-a-clue-or-I'll-hypo-one-to-your-ass glare, "that inhibitions might be the only thing to keep Sam from flattening someone if a bunch of drunks were ogling his _wife_?"

Jim's eyebrows rose. "Good point. No girl in cake. Maybe I should request some male dancers to make things more even?"

"Dammit Jim, we are _not _hosting a wedding reception with exotic dancers!" If he didn't stop this right now Nana McCoy's ghost would haunt him for all eternity.

"Alright," Jim held a hand up in a placating gesture. "No exotic dancers, but the place is perfect. I mean, what do you need for a wedding reception? A room at a club, food, booze, music, dancing - we've got it all," he hit a key on the padd with a triumphant tap. "Trust me, Bones, it'll be fine."

* * *

.

Like any good officer, Kirk had worked out objectives, resources, methodology and contingency plans for operation Bachelor Party well in advance. Granted, as was often the case, an unforeseen complication had thrown a wrench into his neatly laid plans, but there was no such thing as a no-win scenario and now that he had redefined the mission parameters there was only one difficulty left: getting the party from point A to point B.

Just standing up and announcing it would probably meet with the sort of resistance that he'd gotten from Bones, but potentially worse since Giotto had a distinct talent for finding a way around orders he didn't agree with following. And Kirk certainly wasn't going to_ order_ him to go to his own wedding reception. No, the mark of great leadership was getting people to _want_ to do what you wanted them to do, which in this case meant making the move to the _Shady Lady_ more attractive than staying here. Fortunately, since here was a very public place and Giotto was a very private person, there was an obvious way forward.

"Attention everyone, seeing as this has turned into a wedding reception there is a fine old tradition to be observed." Jim began tapping his glass.

They had already begun to attract a small crowd of on-lookers and Giotto shot him a you've-got-to-be-kidding look.

Bingo. Jim tapped louder and soon everyone but Spock had joined in. The Vulcan looked puzzled.

"You too Spock," Kirk urged.

"I fail to see the purpose."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Just go along you pointy-eared killjoy."

"It's to make the bride and groom kiss," Uhura explained. "We keep this up until the do."

An eyebrow ascended. There was a definite crowd now. "Surely Starfleet officers should not encourage impropriety in a public venue."

"I'll decide what's improper for 'fleet officers Mr. Spock," Pike nudged Sam with his cane. "Kiss your wife Commander."

Sam exchanged a glance with Denise and flipped a two-finger salute. They leaned just close enough to touch lips.

"Jeez, that does _not_ count," Kirk objected. He got up and stepped toward the crowd of on-lookers. A bunch of strangers might inhibit his discretion-obsessed Security Chief, but Jim had no such compunctions. He flashed devilish grin. "Anyone want to help me demonstrate how to do this right? I think the _old man_ has forgotten."

Giotto's eyebrows hitched nearly as high as Spock's and Jim smirked. He'd just opened his mouth to deliver another jibe when a Kzinti woman nearly pulled him off his feet, bending him over backward so that his arms flailed momentarily before he could respond to her very enthusiastic kiss.

_Damn. Maybe staying here _is_ a better idea than the_ Shady Lady…

As the crowd broke into whistles and catcalls, Bones covered his eyes. "Oh dear God, I can't take him anywhere."

"Had to expect it," Jessy patted his back consolingly. "Kirk at a bar – bound to be a scene."

"This happen often?" Pike asked.

Uhura crossed her arms. "You don't want to know."

When the Kzinti finally released him, Jim regained his balance and bowed with a dashing smile. "Thank you, madam, for your assistance."

"Anytime Fly Boy," she purred, sauntering off with a flirtatious wave.

Jim let his eyes linger a moment before returning to his seat with a huge grin. "See? And I don't even know her."

Denise gave him a long-suffering look. "That's not exactly a reason to brag Captain."

"Oh I don't know, it was a _good_ kiss," Jim smirked. "Maybe if you chased her down and got some pointers your husband would loosen up a little."

Her eyes narrowed and Sam began to object. He didn't get very far. Denise caught his face in her hands and his mouth was soon otherwise occupied. In contrast to the Kzinti's forceful kiss, hers was a slow caress of lips, gentle but compelling and after an instant's hesitation, Sam seemed to decide that it was a far better approach to oral argument than anything he'd been about to say. The audience was all but forgotten …until they started to applaud.

When they broke, Sam was smiling but there was a hint of color on his cheeks.

"My God, I was giving orders to the wrong officer!" Pike laughed. "You've met your match Sam. I haven't seen you blush in years."

Sam ducked his head, waving a hand in a 'move along' motion toward the rest. "Okay, show's over."

Denise just smiled, tilting her head a little to catch his eye and whispered something, getting a small grin in return.

"A toast," Kirk sprang to his feet and lifted his glass. "To throwing caution and restraint to the wind! Who would've thought _Mr. Marshall_ would set a new speed record for engaged to married?"

Denise laughed. "Actually it's pretty normal on Alivona. Island law: after a night together a woman gives a man one of these," she plucked a little charm out of Sam's carry-on, "and if he accepts, he's hers."

"Congratulations Jim!" McCoy doubled over laughing and gestured at the identical fertility token on the counter. "Looks like we've got two weddings to celebrate."

"I don't suppose you remember your wife's name?" Uhura snarked.

"Or any identifying features?" Jessy put in.

Jim wrapped a hand around his face. Oh God, this was worse than getting drunk in Vegas.

"Don't worry sir, the marriage only lasts a month," Giotto chuckled and looked at his wife with a knowing smile.

"Unless the woman is pregnant by month's end," she continued softly, laying a hand on his and meeting his gaze. "Then it's permanent."

The group went dead silent, except for the sound of Phil choking on his drink. Sam pulled his eyes away from Denise and grinned at him. "Didn't think to bet on _that_, did you?"

Whoa. Jim's eyes shot to his CMO but judging by the way he was competing with Spock for highest eyebrows, Bones hadn't known either.

"You never came in," Christine scolded, starting to fuss. "How far -"

Denise waved her off, laughing. "I'm not. _We_ also had a regular ceremony to make things permanent." She arched an eyebrow at Kirk. "You'll have to wait a month to find out and probably challenge _another_ paternity claim. Maybe next time you'll read those 'boring planetary overviews' before a shore leave?"

Jim felt his cheeks blaze and nodded sheepishly.

"Cheer up," Pike laughed and slapped him on the back. "Every Captain should be married a few times - just ask my ex-wives."

Bones rolled his eyes. "Thank God there's at least one contraceptive shot you're not allergic to Jim."

"Amen to that," Kirk agreed, lifting his glass.

"And you two," Pike turned to Sam and Denise, giving them a stern look and then breaking into a grin. "Nicely played. But if you think I'm not going to find a way to pay you back for the look that was undoubtedly on my face, you are seriously mistaken."

Sam gave his friend a broad smile. "It was good one Chris. Measure your pay back carefully, because I'm _going_ to get a copy off the security feeds in here."

"Well even if you're not having babies _yet_," Jessy grinned and raised her glass. "I propose a toast: to 'Mom and Pop' finally getting married. Maybe now Starfleet will treat us like we're legitimate!"

Giotto raised his in turn. "I think you've proven beyond doubt that you are. Congratulations everyone. Well done."

* * *

_AN: Sorry this took so long to post. The 'part that never fails' in my computer's processor decided to provide further proof that Murphy was an optimist and it took a while to fix the problem and then rewrite what I'd lost. _

_I had originally intended to have Bones nix the party and end this here. However during the rewrite, the version of Jim who lives in my brain kept insisting that he'd have found a way to hold a party anyway and then began narrating the reception. So I'm trying to decide if I should add that chapter here or use it as the next 'tale' in Vol. III._

_Either way, I hope you've enjoyed the story._

_Please r&r._


	13. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Because all's well that ends well_

* * *

Kirk sat back and enjoyed the view. It had taken an admiral to finally get them here, but once everyone had relaxed and settled in, even Bones had had to admit that this 'probably wasn't the worst idea in the history of toasting matrimony'.

"You see Cherry, a smart commander can always find a way," Jim told the 'hostess' currently occupying his lap. He'd canceled the exotic dancers, but happily half the serving staff doubled as entertainment. "Bachelor party. Wedding reception. They're both celebrations right?"

Cherry giggled which, given the cut of her blouse and Jim's line-of-sight, made her _very_ entertaining. _Best wedding reception ever_.

In fact, since Sam had studiously kept his eyes off the help and Jim had thoughtfully arranged for Denise's glass to never get to more than half empty, the bride had eventually started looking pretty happy about this too. She'd even laughed when Jim explained that there was no girl in the cake because he'd been talked out of talking her into it.

* * *

.

A couple hours ago...

Giotto shook his head, chuckling. Only James T. Kirk would host a wedding reception in a cabaret. He and Denise had gone along primarily at Pike's urging. Not only was he an admiral, but Sam knew Chris. If this was the payback he'd chosen, it was best to accept it before he had time to plan something worse. And there had been a certain level of curiosity involved - of the sort that accompanied watching a high speed race that was likely to result in a dramatic wreck. As the guests of honor, they had really good seats for it.

Spock's ears had gone noticeably green by the fourth encounter with a 'hostess' intrigued by the presence of a Vulcan. However, judging by Uhura's little 'in your dreams wench' smirk, she not only didn't feel threatened, but was almost enjoying this. That was in contrast to the Captain whose initial amusement had fast given way to a mixture of disbelief and envy. Getting to listen to the doctor acerbically ribbing both of them about it had been well worth the price of admission.

Of course, since he and Denise were theoretically the reason for the party, Sam couldn't just sit back and watch. Well, not entirely. He smiled, watching Denise. She was trying so hard to contain laughter that she was literally shaking (which he had to admit created a nice effect and there was no longer any reason to pretend not to notice - in fact, given their current locale he might even get devoted husband points for it).

"C'mon Chief," Kirk wheedled. "Admit it. You would have liked to see her pop out of a cake."

Giotto let his eyes scan the room of people partying a bit harder than was standard at a wedding reception. While the concept of Denise and cake was something he might allow himself to imagine later, any such imagining would involve a far more private setting. "I think, Captain, that the Doctor made a very good point."

"Told ya Jim," McCoy swatted the Captain's arm with the back of his hand.

Sam suppressed a smile. Kirk _asking _Denise to jump out of a cake would be amusing except for the likelihood of putting him in the awkward position of having to stop his wife from slapping his Captain. However, no one ever stopped McCoy, so there was solid precedent for staying out of things should the situation ever arise.

"When did you get so stuffy Sam?" Pike teased, eyes glowing with possibly one too many shots of Aldebaran whiskey. "I remember -"

Sam kicked him under table. Superior officer or no, he and Chris had once been young (and overly carefree) lieutenants together and there were stories that were not going be told here.

"I think you could use another drink Chief." Kirk grinned, raising a hand to signal a waitress.

Giotto lifted his half-full glass. "I'm still working on this one."

"You're allowed to work a little faster. We," Dan nodded toward Phil and the coven, "are in charge of any trouble tonight."

Jessy grinned, taking a glass from the round that had instantly appeared. She set it in front of him. "If you don't stop playing watchdog and enjoy yourself we're going to start thinking you don't trust us."

Sam laughed. It wasn't a matter of trust so much as habit, but the drink was a 'house special' (which probably meant it was more flavoring than alcohol). He raised the glass in a small salute and shot it. _Yep, hardly a sting_. The team of designated trouble-handlers looked immensely happy at the gesture though. He set the empty down. "There. Vote of confidence."

"Awesome," Kirk started to raise his hand again and Denise stopped him.

"_You_ don't need any more confidence. Besides," she took Sam's arm, "since no one's going to jump out at us, we should go cut the cake."

* * *

.

Getting the groom to unbend had taken a little more effort, but when Jessy had gotten Giotto to shoot that drink, Jim had nearly applauded. _Way to guilt Pop out of guardian mode_. If Kirk could've figured out how to justify a field promotion for that, he'd have done it on the spot.

The tide had really turned once more of the Security contingent had shown up. Leslie and Cupcake had arrived with a music datachip suspiciously labeled 'SBG12'. Kirk decided that (a) he didn't want to know, and (b) if they'd pinched that from Giotto's collection, they were far braver men than he'd previously imagined. However, Sam had almost visibly relaxed as classic blues replaced the club's plasmafunk dance music.

That observation lead to a quick strategy session with the coven, resulting in a well-coordinated plan of attack: they'd encourage Giotto to show a few more 'votes of confidence' while Jim tasked Uhura with finding a good blues song for a couples dance (despite his reputation for doing the impossible, Jim did recognize _some_ limits and getting the Chief to be anything but incredibly stiff for a spotlight 'first dance' would probably require getting him too drunk to stand).

It worked almost too well. Uhura decided to make a gift of her own version of 'At Last' - in a voice so sultry that Jim had wondered if it'd be a little too obvious if he 'accidentally' spill some ice down his pants. If Spock didn't have her to sing that in private, Vulcan hearing was completely wasted on Vulcans.

But it had had the intended effect on the (by that point) somewhat inebriated newlyweds. By the end of the song the light between bodies index had reached a record low, so Jim decided to declare mission success, kick back and enjoy the fruits of victory.

At the moment, those fruits were Cherry-flavored. Mmmm.

* * *

.

Giotto turned a little unsteadily into the corridor. Whatever had been in those 'house specials' tasted mild but packed more of a punch than Alivonian rum. Denise held his arm, a teasing look in her eyes. Sam had the body mass and experience to nearly match Scotty for drinking, but while she'd gotten a head start, she'd also stopped before the Scotsman had arrived and joined in buying rounds. They'd still had to halfway hold each other up during that last dance (not that Sam particularly objected, but it had made it rather tempting to head for the door instead returning to their table).

Right now which of them was holding the other steady was debatable, but no real cause for concern. Although Giotto wasn't as experienced at fighting in this state as he'd once been, he also wasn't so impaired that he couldn't handle anything likely to happen on a station. Sam double-checked that the detox tablets McCoy had slipped him were still in his pocket just in case. He was at least sober enough to think of that, which was more than could be said for Pike and Scotty who had taken a last drink that could only be identified as 'green' before Chris had wandered off in pursuit of similarly colored hostesses. While waiting to feel a little more capable of walking straight, Sam and Denise had had a good laugh about their former captain's weakness for Orion women and the fact that Kirk seemed to be eying the rest of the staff like a man deciding on selections from a five-course menu.

Now they were heading more or less in the direction of the ship and whichever quarters they found their way to first. Giotto's comm buzzed and Denise stopped him before he could open it. He looked a question at her.

"_We_ are still on leave until 08:00." She turned it off and slipped the comm back into his pocket, while precluding further argument with a kiss.

Rule 4: they were married, so she could kiss him whenever she liked. Sam thought he could get used to that one. His hands fell to her waist. "You make an excellent point."

* * *

.

"Jim," Bones whispered.

"Mm?"

"I need to talk to you."

Jim disengaged just enough to mouth 'Later'.

"_Now_ Jim."

Cherry started nibbling his earlobe and Jim gave his friend a look that said 'Unless the entire Romulan Empire is attacking, _**not **_**now'**.

"Jim, Sam and Denise are gone."

Jim rolled his eyes with as much sarcasm as humanly possible. _Gee, two honeymooners who had recently danced to one of the hottest songs he'd ever heard. Where, oh where could they possibly be?_

Bones scowled and narrowed his eyes. Jim widened his and made a little shooing motion over Cherry's shoulder. He knew it was probably his fault for never letting a little thing like his roommate walking in disturb a make-out session, but really Bones had gotten entirely too comfortable with interrupting him.

"Just remember you asked for this," Bones muttered and tapped Cherry on the shoulder. "Excuse me ma'am, but I think my friend here may have neglected to tell that you he's a married man."

Cherry looked up and shrugged a little. "We get all kinds. I try not judge."

"Open-mindedness," Kirk gave her an adoring grin. "That's _so_ refreshing. The universe would be a better place if there were more people like you, Cherry."

"Oh dear God," Bones ran a hand over the lower half of his face, eyes rolling upward as if looking for strength. "I'm sorry ma'am but the truth is that as Jim's doctor I need to speak with him."

"Bones!"

"I know Jim, but you left me no choice." Bones looked at Cherry gravely. "He suffers from severe _plenus stercoris_. It's not contagious, but before you two get too carried away, I need a moment to make sure he gets his treatment."

Cherry got up, her nose wrinkling a little.

"Cherry, wait -" Jim called as she beat a hasty retreat. He threw his hands up at McCoy, fingers spread in a gesture of frustration and disbelief. "What the hell Bones? I don't have ...whatever it is you just said."

"Yeah, you do," Bones smirked. "It's Latin for being _full of shit_. Now pay attention. Sam and Denise stepped out awhile ago to clear their heads and they're not answering their comms."

Jim gave him an exceptionally blank look. _People on the last night of their honeymoon who had turned off their comms. Imagine that._

Bones rolled his eyes. "I know, but it's not like them and Jessy's starting to get worried."

"_Your _girlfriend_'_s worried. _That'_s why chased away the woman of my dreams?"

McCoy scowled. "Jim, that woman was a complete slut."

"Like I said..."

"_Focus_ Jim."

He rolled his eyes. "Seriously Bones, they probably just stepped all the way to Sam's quarters."

"That's the problem. Sam doesn't exactly _have_ quarters right now. Scotty had a 'wee might' before heading back to the ship and got it into his head to surprise them by doing the conversion to married quarters." McCoy's mouth went a little crooked. "Best intentions of course, but he wasn't thinking too clearly and the project got a bit out of hand."

"Okay, that's awkward, but I don't think Sam's going to get too angry or anything. I mean, they can always go to her quarters instead."

"Actually Jim, they can't. You see, Scotty decided do the conversion by combining them."

"What do you mean 'combining them'? Denise's quarters are a deck below Sam's."

"Yeah," McCoy nodded, pursing his lips. "And a few doors over. Riley caught him when he was cutting the hole for the spiral staircase, but by then Scotty'd already knocked a wall out of Denise's bedroom to make room for the nursery."

"Nursery?"

"I'm not too sure if it was meant to be payback or if admiral was just too sauced to explain things clearly, but Scotty came away from the story about that little joke thinking Denise was actually pregnant." The doctor paused thoughtfully. "Kind of a shame they had to stop him, he'd even designed the room for twins just in case."

Jim clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from snickering. Give their Chief Engineer enough liquor and his creative juices tended to overflow. It wasn't always a bad thing. In fact, if Riley hadn't been there Sam and Denise might have come home to a nice four bedroom townhome built right through the center of two decks. _With a twin-capable nursery_. He was _so_ tempted to have him finish that part just to see the reaction.

"I still don't see the big emergency Bones. We can put them in one of the guest quarters until it's all fixed."

Bones just stared a beat. "You mean the guest quarters conveniently located near our diplomatic officer's quarters?"

Oh shit. "Scotty trashed them _all_?"

"No, but he was doing some serious rewiring. Systems on that whole side of the deck are pretty iffy."

Jim sighed. Pursuing new quarry would have to wait until he sorted out Scotty's extreme home makeover. ...Or maybe not.

"Okay Bones," Kirk said with due resignation. "I'm the Captain and I'll handle this. Go tell Jessy not to worry. I mean, the Chief survived close to a week on a hostile planet; I think he can make it back to the ship safely."

* * *

.

After last time, Sam did not attempt to carry Denise across the threshold until having a look to make sure the floor was where it should be. That last door had clearly been a mistake (at least Giotto didn't recall having installed a bear pit in front of his bookcase) but now they were in his quarters ...or hers?... He looked around. Yes, her quarters and there were no holes in the floor. He swept Denise into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

And stopped. Denise just stared as he set her down. "Sam, I swear I used to have a wall there."

Yeah. Apparently_ something _interesting had occurred in their absence. "I'm beginning to think I should have taken that comm."

"Maybe," Denise agreed. "But right now, I think we have two choices. Try to find a room on the station or," she grinned up at him mischievously, "stay here and live a little dangerously."

Sam glanced into the adjoining room. Guest quarters and he was pretty sure he could seal the door. "Dangerously?" he teased. "What color is my shirt?"

She draped her arms around his neck and kissed him by way of answer. He pulled her close. Rule 4 was fast becoming his favorite...

"Sir?"

Frak. Not now.

"Are you in here?"

He looked up in time to see Margolis quickly turn her back. Despite coming to attention, the 19-yr-old gave the distinct impression of a teenager mortified at having walked in on her parents necking. Well that might finally teach her some caution. "I suppose there's an explanation for this Ensign?"

"I'm sorry sir." The explanation came in an embarrassed rush. "The Captain told us to look for you. Mr. Scott wanted to have married quarters ready and there was a little confusion, and then he tried to combine them, and no one noticed until there were already holes everywhere and the computer isn't responding on this deck and," she paused to catch her breath, "we all feel really, really bad about this sir."

"Only on this ship," Denise buried her face in Sam's chest to muffle laughter. Given the sheer absurdity of it all, Giotto was finding it difficult to keep from cracking up too and the fact that Margolis had made that report while rigidly facing in the opposite direction wasn't helping. "Ensign, turn around," he ordered. "How long is it going to take to fix this?"

"At least a day sir," she said anxiously. "Mr. Scott wanted to offer you his quarters to make up for it, but the detox made him really ill, so the Captain's giving you his."

Denise suddenly stopped laughing. She'd once told Sam that if she found Jim Kirk naked in her bed, her first thought would be to disinfect the sheets. He was pretty sure a similar line of thought was running through her head right now.

Margolis seemed to sense it too. "I took the liberty of changing all the linens, sir. And," her eyes snapped to some point on the far wall as she fought a blush, "removing all of the toys."

Rationally, there was absolutely no reason to be surprised that their Captain had 'toys', but hearing it? Sam bit his cheeks trying not to laugh.

Denise snickered and clamped a hand over her mouth. That did it. Giotto could usually contain a laugh until he was free to let it out, but still a bit buzzed, with Denise laughing against his side and a sudden mental imagine of Kirk with a whole box full of _toys_, he lost it. He fell laughing against Denise, trying to clutch her and his ribs at the same time.

Poor Margolis turned beet red and Giotto fought for some semblance of composure. "Forgive me Ensign. We really do appreciate your consideration." He gestured dismissal while trying to catch his breath. "Tell the Captain we accept."

"Yessir." She headed for the door with deliberate speed.

"We accept?" Denise asked as soon as she'd gone.

"Kathy just did something incredibly uncomfortable to just make us comfortable." And with any luck this would cure her crush on the Captain. "I couldn't let her go through that for nothing."

"Alright," Denise conceded with a chuckle. "Although I notice you don't seem too concerned about putting Kirk out."

Sam laughed. "I'm reasonably certain that he will do just fine tonight - even without toys."

.

"Excellent! Take some time off and come down here for a drink Margolis. You've earned it." Kirk closed his comm with a satisfied snap. Improvising to pull things out against last minute problems always gave him a little rush. He smiled at his assistants. "They're fine."

"Thank goodness," Bubbles exclaimed.

Champagne kissed his cheek. "You went to _so_ much trouble to make sure they were okay."

"Least I could do," Jim shrugged. "A Captain has to look out for his crew and you have no idea how long it took me to get those two together."

"You fixed them up too?" Bubbles cooed. "You must be the best Captain _ever_."

Jim glanced down, affecting modesty. "I try."

"They're so lucky to have you." Champagne's smile turned to a little moue. "I can't imagine finding your bedroom trashed on your wedding night. Do they have somewhere to stay now?"

"Of course," Jim assured her. "I gave them my quarters."

"Aww," Bubbles sighed. "That's so generous. But where will you sleep?"

"Oh," Jim bit his lip to mask a grin from the twins hanging on his shoulders. "I'm sure there's a room on the station somewhere."

Champagne twirled a finger in his hair. "_We_ have a room."

Jim lifted his eyebrows innocently. "I wouldn't want to impose."

"It's no imposition for someone so sweet and kind and considerate," Bubbles punctuated each adjective with a kiss.

"Well, if you're sure..."

"Of course we're sure," Champagne giggled, stroking his cheek. "After all, you deserve a happy ending too."

Jim beamed, dropping an arm around each of their waists. "I can't imagine a happier one."

* * *

_AN: Margolis appears in several of the Security Chief tales, and Leslie and Cupcake got access to that music chip in 'Blues for Christmas'._

_This is a much longer chapter than I usually write, but Jim was on a roll and he's been a very good boy for this fic so he deserved his happy ending. I hope you enjoyed it._

_Thanks to everyone who read and especially everyone who reviewed. I truly appreciate your comments. Please continue._


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